Or something like that.

Brother and I went with Guru … back to the range. Where it looked like Brother had spent every day for the last five years of his life there.

Such ease, grace and effortless skill he displayed. But, really, that just sums Brother up. He kicks ass in every thing he does. Doesn’t matter what it is, he picks it up and perfectly so.

This is just absolutely wonderful for me. I’ve never, not even from a young age, harbored any jealously over this … because I knew, it would only benefit me.  And it has.

Plus. I love seeing the people I love excel at things … especially things I don’t excel in. It inspires me.

So I was totally made fun of for attire. But, hey, I refuse to go to the range not in my heels. As previously stated, should I ever find myself in an actual shoot out — I’ll be in heels.

Therefore, heels stay. Period. End of discussion.

This time I wanted to choose the actual guy as our target, which then had me continuously laughing. I mean, seriously! Just look at that dude. Holding his gun. He even has a wedding ring on — which especially humored me, for some reason.

Brother and I had a contest to see who could shoot him more in the most inappropriate of places. Naturally, I picked his junk. Which Brother and Guru both highly approved of, should I ever find myself in any dangerous situation.

Here’s Guru coaching me along … pep talks … I told him how this time I needed more pep talks. None of this, “pull the god damn trigger” bullshit.

The noise, despite the hot pinkness {yet again} still got me. Again, Brother never even so much as flinched. Still going to have to get used to that. I’ll get there … eventually.

After the range, we headed out for a lunch. I should have known and expected it would be an all out multi course Italian affair. Highly doubt I’ll need to eat for the next two days.

Worth every bite though. Particularly the creme brulee. Italia or no Italia, it will always be about the French up in here.