If I had set out to design, from the ground up, the perfect granddaughter, I don't think I could have done as well She's my hunting buddy, my running buddy (it's her fault that we do any mud run that we can get to) and, despite the difference in ages, she's my friend. And I am the luckiest SOB you will ever meet because of it!
I had almost quit shooting, had gotten to the point that even practice with my CCW piece was a chore, when she asked me if I'd teach her to shoot, and take her hunting. That was five years ago, and since then, I've reloaded more rounds, spent more time afield and on the range, and had more fun than I had in the last twenty!
Along the way, I've acquired three more Minions, mainly because of her. They keep me busier than a one-armed paper hanger with crabs, cause me to spend a bunch of my toy fund on reloading components and non-resident licenses, and help me keep the freezer full of free-range pork and venison.
Between The Boss, who tolerates my foolishness, and The Minions, who encourage it, I'd hate to see what happens when I pass on, because I think that this is all the Paradise I can handle!