Sh*t that Happens While I'm at Work

My nephew was waiting in the driveway when I got home tonight.

"So, Grandpa B shot himself in the hand today..."

"Of course he did. What happened?"

Grandpa B is my sister-in-law's dad and he lives on the other side of our house. He's like a dad to me. He is also accident prone, clearly.

I asked J what happened and he explained

"He called Grandpa a few hours ago because he shot himself in the hand and he didn't know what to do."

"Didn't. Know. What. To. DO?"

"Yeah, he said it wouldn't stop bleeding and spurting blood."

"It's called an effing ARTERY!" I interject.

"I know, right? So Grandpa tells him he has to go to the ER so his granddaughter took him."

"Now, wait, what? What was he doing with a gun?"

Grandpa B was working with his granddaughter and they were cleaning his bedroom. B had taken his gun down from the closet shelf and was emptying the chamber when the gun went off.
Of course it did.

J went back to his house and I went inside to do the laundry. A few minutes later I heard voices in the driveway so I walked out.

There stands B, my f-i-l, s-i-l, and nephew talking about what happened.

"I didn't have my finger on the trigger, it was just on the hammer." He insisted.

"Well, clearly you did or the gun wouldn't have gone off."

"I only had my finger on the hammer and I was starting to take the bullets out when the gun went off."

"But I didn't have my finger on the trigger, it was on the hammer."

"Was it a six-shooter? you had to have it on the trigger."


He blew the tip of his finger OFF. He is so freaking lucky that he only lost a fingertip.
"I don't have a finger print now. "

"Yes, now you can rob a bank undetected. Too bad you can't use a gun properly."

Yeah, this is SO not the family that you're going to get sympathy from.

He blew a hole in the wall of his house, it went clean through. "So, I'll have to fix that in the morning" he says, completely unbothered by the whole thing.

"Did you get blood all over the house?"

No, just on my clothes & the towel." He had a remarkably small amount of blood on his clothes so I'm guessing he's wrong. My s-i-l went down with him to check it out. She had instructions to take all guns & sharp objects away from him.

"A spork, you can have a spork." we told him.