THE BEAR's Breakfast Blog
Rifles For Toddlers
I've often thought of moving back to the United States. To be clear, I am an American Citizen with permanent resident status in Canada. I'm a landed immigrant -- and have been here since I was six months old. I've never filed for citizenship because I'm essentially lazy. That's the only reason.
Canada is my home and I consider myself a proud Canadian -- even if it doesn't say so on paper. But moving to the US has always been in the back of my head in a "keeping my options open" kind of way.
Whenever I'm thinking of a move it's always to a southern state. I see myself sick of Canadian winters and envision a move to Arizona to buy a cheap house on a golf course. But now -- I'm not too sure.
This whole lack of gun control thing is beginning to frighten the living Hell out of me. Specifically today, after the death of a two year old girl in Kentucky, killed by her five year old brother.
Accidental child shootings happen -- not all the time -- but they happen. This is the first time though that I've heard of a five year old killing a two year old with his own gun.
In this case -- it was a gun called the Cricket, marketed as "My First Rifle". It was the boy's gun given to him a year ago as a gift. A year ago. When he was a four year old boy. His parents gave a four year old a gun. As a present.
I know I've repeated myself there. But it gets even more ridiculous the more you see it, doesn't it? The parents of a four year old boy gave him a .22 calibre rifle as a present. And it's all perfectly legal.
I've been to the Cricket website -- and have attached a couple of photos (see above) that you can have a look at. They even have pink guns – you know, because little girls love pink.
Obviously I feel for this entire family. The two year old girl whose life ended unexpectedly and prematurely. The five year old boy who probably still doesn’t understand what he’s done. To some extent even the parents – who as far as I’m concerned are no better than drug addicts who let a toddler run loose in a crack house. I don’t want to say lowest common denominator – but they’re pretty damn close.