JT has a new mantra to learn:
"My weapon is a Glock Model 21 forty-five caliber semiautomatic handgun. It has a four-point-six-inch barrel with an overall length of seven point fifty-nine inches. It carries thirteen rounds in the magazine with one round in the chamber for a total of fourteen rounds. It weighs twenty-six point twenty-eight ounces unloaded and thirty-eight point twenty-eight ounces loaded. It has standard sights. The barrel has eight lands and grooves with a uniform right hand twist. The serial number of my weapon is..."
Over and over he says it, the words and numbers echoing softly through the house like Gregorian chant. I think I've just about memorized it myself.
He practices it while he washes the dishes, and repeats it while he changes JY's diaper. He's been helping out a lot around the house, and I think it's sweet--it's like he's buttering me up for when his needs start to become more demanding. ;) Or maybe he can sense that I'm nervous about how much our lives are going to change. He's trying extra hard to reassure me: I'm still the same guy. You remember the guy who, our first year together, packed you a lunch and brought it to you every day at work and we ate it together picnic-style at the park? Yeah, I'm still here. :)
2 days ago