My ten-year-old son has a BB gun. I bought it for him because I knew how much fun I had with mine when I was a kid. There's another reason why I bought it for him. When I was around ten, my dad bought me a 20 gage shotgun. I was a little kid; the first time I fired the gun, the recoil knocked me down. My dad ended up sawing a couple inches off the stock so that I could brace it against my shoulder. You may wonder what kind of father would buy such a dangerous weapon for such a small child. First of all, we lived in the country. Being able to handle a gun was not only a rite of passage, it was a necessity. Second of all, my dad used that gun to teach me responsibility. There were very strict rules. You don’t load your gun and cock it until you are ready to fire. You never leave your gun loaded. You never aim at anything unless you know what it is. And you never, ever point the gun at anyone. Dad showed me the proper way to hold the gun when I walked, so that if I tripped, I wouldn’t accidentally discharge it. Once, my brother and I went hunting. When we got back, I left my gun laying out in the utility room. When my dad found my gun laying out, still loaded, I was in serious trouble. A gun is nothing to mess around with.