I like guns - this goes back to my childhood when both my younger brothers got beautiful replica pistols: one got a Colt 45 and I think the other one got a Luger.

Me and my sister didn't get guns.

I don't think she minded but I really resented it.

They were BB pellet replicas and the deal was that the boys could play with their guns in the house or back garden but nowhere else and of course, they must never point their guns at anyone ever.

Of course, the brother with the Luger went off with his best friend to shoot squirrels on Hampstead Heath.

Naturally they were spotted and this was at a time when the IRA was pretty active in London.

Next thing they knew was that the armed response squad turned up along with helicopters and my little brother and his mate were arrested by a lot of worried high-level police.

I'm not quite sure what happened next because alas, I was (I think) holed up in the local library researching Irish history.

According to my little brother, my father was absolutely furious and broke his precious Luger in front of him with the promise that he would never be bought another one. Epic gating also followed.

Obviously I was delighted, despite having had nothing to do with the drama.

Interestingly that brother has no interest in guns while the other one still enjoys shooting.

I have no idea why Americans behave so strangely over guns and people like the Canadians don't, despite having plenty of guns. It's really weird.