When Noah finally broke a target he was thrilled, and the long morning was, in his mind, a success. I overruled his father, who thought he should try the next station. I said Noah was done shooting clays. For him, one broken bird was enough, but I did let him shoot again. I fished an empty pop can out of the trash barrel at the station and let the boy ventilate it, twice. I think he enjoyed that as much as he liked hitting a target in the air, and he left the course with a big smile on his face, and a Mountain Dew can full of holes as a souvenir.