I'm not a morning person. My kids should know this by now. Yet earlier, my 17-year-old son stood over my somnolent form and gave me detailed instructions about a gym bag filled with paintball guns and ammo. "I put them in your... Meet me in front of the .... And whatever you do don't let.... get too hot...the CO2 tanks will explode."
Explode. What? Huh? I removed my pillow from over my face and struggled to a sitting position, but he was gone.
Any of you folks paintball? Am I in danger of being shot by exploding paint when I run my errands this afternoon?
I hate mornings.