As my claimed kin says: "Fun fun fun!!!"
She tore a two inch hole through the middle of a target and dug a frickin' hole in the berm with the AK-47--granted, it was only 25 yards, but it was her first time shooting rifle (and then only a bolt-action .22) in 15 years. She did well with my CZ-82, but rocked my heart's brother's .357 revolver. I'm going to bet she's going to be in the market for at least a steel-framed .38.
I didn't get much shooting in. My .22 didn't like the Winchester ammo that was all Walmart was carrying today (either wouldn't feed or wouldn't extract--sometimes both--and no, the gun didn't need oiled), and the 9mm Hi-Point has sat too long unloved in its case next to the nightstand, and was sulking. It needs to be taken down and cleaned and oiled. My Kimber .22 upper doesn't fit my STI Spartan--it's too tight, and I don't know what to do other than sigh and put it away. But today wasn't about me, but about my friend.
My friend and I will be doing this again, though. And next time...next time...I'm bringing Odysseus's AR-15, and probably my Mauser .308, and maybe my Mosin-Nagant carbine. Because it seems like my friend likes recoil just as much as I do, and she's not currently breastfeeding.
3 hours ago