You may recall, last year my nephew had a Paintball birthday party. Naturally, the experience went bad for me.This year, he wanted to do it again. With panic-y eyes and trembling knees, I once again put on the mask and limped timidly toward my doom.
I had a huge advantage this time, though. I knew in advance that I'd be playing, so I didn't wear orange. :) I actually did OK. Two bruises, both from shots I took after declaring, "I'm out!". Surrender is frowned upon, it seems.
Still, it could be worse. Much, much worse. 4 seconds into the first match, my dad got shot in the tenders. He didn't participate much after that. At the pizza place afterwords, my sister asked him what happened. Dad told her, "Dirty Dingus McGee took a shot to the head."
The look on my sister's face as she parsed out that statement was magnificent.
My 6-year-old nephew was also allowed to play. He got a flack jacket that went to his knees and a wrap-around helmet. His dad followed him around to make sure he was OK. After one of the matches I saw him with a grin so big that it looked like his head might split. "How'd you do?", I asked.
"I shot a guy in the FACE!", little nephew gleefully squeaked.
"Well," I said, "Today you're a man."
"YAY!"
I'll probably end up out there again next year. I figure as long as I never surrender and always wear a cup, I should do OK.
0 comments:
Post a Comment