When I was 17 I went shooting with my dad and grandfather, and I didn't brace one of the rifles properly so it bounced back and the scope cut me above the eye.
We went to get it stitched up, and the only thing my dad texted my mom (who was out of town) was "Shooting went fine, we're leaving the ER now".
I would like to submit this unintentional poem from my mom discussing the local wildlife around my parents house:

















