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I always hear gun control proponents ask, “Why won’t the pro-gunners compromise? Why won’t they give into something?” Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how long it takes to get a suppresser for my gun, so that if God forbid there’s ever a home invasion and I have to shoot the intruder I don’t blow my eardrums out?

Since the time the Second Amendment was written pro-gunners have been compromising. We went from arms to only owning semi-auto handguns and rifles while the government gets to play with drones. The Second Amendment said nothing about background checks, yet thousands of people have to play Russian roulette with their names in the NICS system, getting arbitrarily delayed because there are a billion John Smiths in the world. Why? Because we compromised and said, “You know what? Let’s do background checks.”

Look at the system for concealed-carry licenses. Technically I don’t need a damn license for my constitutional right, but we compromised. Now me, and a bunch of other law-abiding pee-ons have to sit through an eight-hour lecture just to get a plastic card telling us we have permission to do what we had permission to do 200 years ago.

It comes from a soft place, a little place where you need to feel guided. Directed. Sometimes life is all you can manage, all you can take in a day and once you step through that door, you want to fling it all off, crawl in His lap and cling. It’s not a disturbing thing as you might assume. Many words in our language mean multiple things… English is so… Limited. When he calls you, “Baby,” Is this bothersome to you? No? My point is much the same.

When I’m grumpy and sassy and know that I need to have that attitude addressed, I’ll call him Daddy. When I’m broken and hurting, but cannot cry… I’ll place myself across his knee and speak the word. I need that push to let go, to release my emotions. There are things I fail at, that I am weak to that he can hold me accountable for… Again, why I give him such an affectionate name of deference. But even more precious, more perfect are those moments of raw emotion and intimacy when bodies work against one another in the dark and I gasp… “Daddy.”

For all of these things. Daddy.