My Dad was a WWII and Korea vet, and didn't have an interest in firearms. There was an old Italian rifle and an Arisaka with the chrysanthemum he brought back. As a kid I played with them, and had a cowboy outfit complete with fringed shirt, chaps and Roy Rogers gun and gun belt. That was about age 5 or 6.
Then a Red Ryder at 10 and no, I didn't shoot my eye out. Harassed a bunch of birds and paper plates in the back yard in Waco. Also later had one of the kind you could pump up for more destruction.
Real firearms didn't come along until we returned from Great Britain. Around 15 my hoodlum cousins took me out for a day in the woods where they produced their dad's P-38, a Ruger MK standard and a sawed off Stevens 12ga shotgun. I later bought the Ruger and then the shotgun which I still have today. The Ruger I have carried just about everywhere I've been, including airline flights (just gave it to the pilot to hold on to during the flight), through the military and on many hikes and desert adventures. It's not worth much in dollars but priceless to me. Then came the 10/22, Security Six, ad infinitum