At the TDR Militia Training Camp

After lunch today, Lamb wanted to hit the park with her arsenal bag. In this day and age (and city), we attracted a small crowd of kids who watched us play at war. That's my girl.

Lamb certainly likes girly stuff. Disney Princesses. Lots of soaps. Hello Kitty. Pinks and purples. But she's also a fan of Nerf guns. So it was finally nice enough to go outside with her bag of various weapons. Bunny paratroopers, Nerf frisbee. Foam cudgel. Air rocket launcher. Nerf gun. Football. Periscope, And binoculars. All the implements of pretend war.

And we ran around outside shooting at each other (I borrowed Mister's since he's long past that) and having a ball.

Outdoors her red light aiming pointer just doesn't work. She needs to work on leading a target and compensating for wind. But her heart is in it.

Little kids gathered to watch Lamb defend her fort. I had to hold my fire at that point lest horrified parents worry that a foam bullet might hit their child.

We left before the cops could arrive and take my child.

It's a different world to even feel a little different playing this way. When I was lamb's age, playing war was a major effort. We had rules with weapon ranges and used home-made smoke bombs to cover our passage between houses. We even built a wooden armored personnel carrier complete with side and top hatch and featured sloped frontal armor (it kind of looked like an M-113 but with wheels).

Now playing at war can seem odd. Around here anyway.

Hey, I haven't killed anyone. I'm sure Lamb won't, either. Well, not anyone who doesn't need killing, anyway.