My father and I started taking clay pigeon shooting lessons last year because we thought it would be a good way for us to have fun. Over the years, we’ve done various things, some of them pretty normal and some outrageous. We’ve gone through our share of times fishing at the lake, have done fishing in the ocean, and have even tried salmon fishing by swiping our hands at a stream like a bear. We’ve gone sky diving, horseback riding, and deep sea diving. For us, life is pretty much the ultimate adventure.
My father made a bet with me that he would be able to shoot more pigeons on the first day than I would. The bet was for $50. He was so sure that he would be able to get more than me, but I kept telling him that I would be better because I have better eyesight. My father wears glasses, and I don’t, not to mention that he’s much older than me. As confident as my father was, he couldn’t beat me, which lit a fire within him. He wanted to beat me at all costs, so each day he would make another bet and add a little more to it.
At the end of the year, my father had upped the bet to $1000, and even though both of us had improved since the first day of lessons, he still couldn’t beat me. He was so frustrated, but he didn’t want to give in and admit defeat. My mom thinks he’s lost his mind, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to keep on making bets until he gets better and better to the point of finally beating me. I don’t think that moment will ever come, but I’ll have fun taking my father’s money with each bet.