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This one is a hand me down from my mom about my dad.

My dad was US Army SF (10th group) and his dad was an old school gunsmith with an amazing collection.

Needless to say my dad knew better than this:

My mom walks past my dad when they were starting at his parents house one weekend. He is tinkering and cleaning one of his many as usual. He "always checks for a round."

My mom goes to the bathroom to do her hair or whatever ladies do. She is standing in front of the mirror and all of a sudden she hears a round discharged and she sees some sheetrock bits on the floor. She looks and it passed between her legs and into the cabinet. He swears it was empty.