We've had a sudden onset of illness here at the Fuzz household. As in the usual fashion, I didn't get sick until HF had a day off, which is weird how it always happens that way, but awesome because I get to crawl into bed. Poor guy dealt with our crazy kids all day and from what I could hear from upstairs, it wasn't pretty. Next to fall victim to throwing up was our 4 year old boy. I got up briefly to wrap him up in a blanket and put him in bed. Many hours later, HF crawled into bed, having thrown up himself after he put the kids to bed. Here it is 4 in the morning and I have had a lot of sleep and am wide awake for some reason. So I thought this would be an excellent time to talk about SWAT school.
Yes. SWAT school. HF recently completed a three day advanced SWAT school for the existing members of the team, but he was invited to attend pre selection, which is in January. There is a week long school that he will attend post selection once he makes the team. For three days he attended special training given by "industry professionals" (if you know what I mean- *elbow elbow, wink wink*). He loved every second of it. When he came home the first night, this is what happened:
ME: Hi! Mmmmm. You smell good!
HF: Really? That's called gun powder.
ME: Oh. . . well mixed with your deodorant or something, it smelled good I guess. . . How was it?
HF: It was AWESOME.
He then began giving me all the details of the first day, and although I was paying attention, my ears perked up on "bullets whizzing past my ears" and I said, "Oh, you don't mean live ammunition do you?" It was as though I slapped him in the face. "What do you expect them to use? Of course it was live ammunition." My cool, calm, and collected self was having trouble breathing suddenly. He then explained to me how it works and suddenly I could recall a dozen or so stories of people dying during training. Ahhhhhh! Then I was okay like I always am. It's called faith.
On day one they did live fire shooting and moving. All day long.
That night he pretty much crashed into bed so he could wake up and do it all over again the next day. I came to bed a couple of hours later and I very carefully, as not to wake him, slipped into my side of the bed ever so carefully. Once into position, I looked over at him and he was smiling in his sleep! I couldn't help it, but a snort of laughter came out. He stayed smiling until who knows when because I fell asleep. I was hoping that it was me that he was smiling about, but I'm pretty sure it had to do with what he had been doing that day. The guy was in heaven.
Day one's training was in preparation for day two, which was live fire close quarters battle training.