I gave her the gun, but she slapped it right back into my hand. “That’s not kids, that’s animals,” she said resolutely.
“Okay, Grandma, I’ll take the rifle.” I gave in with a hopeless sigh and kissed her cheek. “Now go inside.”
“Oh, mon petit gendarme,” Grandma said, clapping her hands happily. Filled with satisfaction at her small victory, she skipped up the steps.
“Soldat,” I cried after her.

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