We were back at the first grade reading table with another non-fiction book which seems a bit ironic, since such great fiction comes out of our non-fiction book talks. The books were open to a picture of a large brown bear.
"Once my dad shot a bear," my favorite fiction talker said. "Right in the butt." (I let him keep going, because it was getting good...) "I think it was in North Carolina." He leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully. "Or maybe it was at his house, 'cause there are all those woods back there." (Tons of bears in the woods of suburban Connecticut!)
Then, since he had our attention, I think he was starting to have regrets that he hadn't claimed to be the one to have shot the bear. So he upped the ante: "I've been in training for a BB gun," he said. "A shock gun." Then, just in case we were unclear about the "shock gun"..."The shocking pellet has a message that it sends to the brain and it tells it not to come back."
I'm not really a gun person, but that shocking pellet idea sounds kind of cool. I might have to get me one.
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