Anyway...Saturday morning our home teacher called us to invite us paintballing in 20 minutes. We were still in bed and anything that was going to get us out of bed did not sound one bit appealing. However...Max got excited and started to convince me that it would be a "once in a lifetime kind of thing"... "think of the pictures we can show our kids"..."we'll only be there for an hour or so"... "I don't think paintballs hurt" Seeing his determination I finally gave in.
Keep in mind that I am pretty much blind with not much depth perception I always dreaded laser tag birthday parties because I would lose....dramatically.
So we get there and the first group of people we see are a whole gang of older men in matching army uniforms with very expensive gear. We automatically assume this is how they often spend their weekends and we don't stand a chance of survival...we then sign a waiver saying the paintball company is not responsible if we die or become permanently blind...great.
We gear up and get ready to go in...I'm about to pee my paints. We get two rounds each game and I just hid most of the time but the sad part is they have to get the whole team out to win so I either had to try and shoot everyone on the other team...which wasn't going to happen...or surrender myself...which as it turns out is VERY painful.
After the first game I was nearly in tears and quit for the day or for the rest of my life...Paintball is not for me.
Max had a little more fun and did a lot better seeing as he has stealth moves and eagle vision..
So here are the pictures for our posterity however I don't believe they are worth the pain we had to go through..
I was going to take pictures of the welts we had on our bodies but they were mostly all over our rumps so I'll spare you that image.
As exciting as paintballing sounds. I think I would have passed. Way to go Rebecca. Your 7 little boys are going to think you are the coolest mom ever. :)
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of posterity. Today in Sacrament meeting a dad bore his testimony on the joy of posterity. Every time they watch one of their children grow in the gospel, like saying a real reverent prayer, or giving their first talk in primary, the parents say to one another. "Joy in our posterity." I thought that was really sweet. Then the next person who bore his testimony (also a father, and a grandfather) said and the joy in our posterity keeps on growing.
I just thought that was so true. I'm glad you are creating a home where joy in your posterity will continue to grow in this life and in the life to come.
PS thanks for spearing us the rump pictures.
should've made brashkis...
ReplyDeleteI can't believe you guys actually agreed to come with us! You are such good sports! Also you should email me some of the pictures :)
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