On reflection, she's never really been a Barbie Dreamhouse kind of kid

The Critter is about to turn 11.  The only thing she asked for this year was a recurve bow of her very own. 

You can see that she is happy. 


She has read all of The Hunger Games novels (a couple of times). And she watched Brave. But it wasn't either of those things that pushed her over the edge. She went to camp last year, and they had archery lessons. 

Ever since then, she's wanted a bow to call her own. 

You know. Like every other little 5th grade girl has. Right?



I've never had a bow, but I did take a lesson with her over at our nearby archery store (who even knew we had one of those? For the local folks - they are incredibly nice and helpful over there. Highly recommended). 

The Critter is zen-like when she picks up a bow. We took this one home and she spent an hour and a half in the back yard with a target, steadily working on her aim. (Well, she spent the first half of that time chasing arrows into the woods behind our house). But she was so thrilled when she got it down to the yellow circle consistently at 20 yards that she came running in the house to tell me. 

We've established some ground rules. 

  1. Always use good range safety practices. 
  2. Neither her friends, her brother the Boy or the Boy's friends are to play with her bow or arrows. 
  3. No shooting at the livestock
  4. In the case of a zombie apocalypse, she is responsible for at least 1/3 of all undead takedowns. 

Knowing that my little princess can fire a pointy stick with increasing accuracy and force makes me feel a little bit better about the eventual inevitabilty of her wanting to date. 

Plus. You know. Zombies.