Both Barrels - Shooting Widows

My husband is a shooter, Which isn't always fun, As every weekend He's out somewhere with his gun. So quality time together Can sometimes be quite sparse, "But I have to have a hobby." He tells me with a laugh. Our daughters getting married To a super guy called Tom, Has he any faults? I've discovered just the one. He also is a shooter, His hobby is the same, He can't wait to get out And with his gun take aim. So this week we decided To be a shooters WAG And go along with them, Maybe hold their bag. So Lu and I rose early, Up at the crack of dawn, To go and watch them shoot On this early Sunday morn. It was then that we discovered, She's marrying her Dad! Just a fairer version, Oh dear could this be bad? They speak the same language, Of floppy stuff and rabbits, They have the same mannerisms, The very same habits. They pull out their guns From gun sleeves in time. Pick up their bags together And up the hill they climb. They put on identical glasses, Taken from identical tins, From behind they could be, The dark and fair haired twins. They stand and measure clays, Arms up in the air, Give each other The very same stare. Their heads move in unison As they watch the others shoot, They both rest their guns Upon their right boot. They congratulate each other On a job well done, Share a bit of banter, Have a lot of fun. Discuss with other shooters The angle of the clay, "What is your score card Looking like today?" So my darling daughter Your weekends could be a bore. When he gets back home again He'll sit and analyse the score. We'll have to get a hobby That is just for us two, 'Cause Dad and Tom jointly Will stick together like glue!