Paintball Fun.

There is no hunting, like the hunting of man. ~ Pursuit Combat Systems

Yesterday the girl went paintballing. Yes, that one ~ the girly girl. I did not go. I rather thankfully handed said child over to Irish Dad & one of the Irish Lads & left them to negotiate the rather dubious instructions I downloaded from RACQ out to Samford. Samford is where we decided they'd get the best value for money.

They arrived back home after dark absolutely filthy having had a wonderful time all round. I picked them up from the jetty & promptly asked my child, " Well? Did you have a wonderful time?" Before Star could get a word out [& believe me she's not slow!] Irish dad proceeded to tell me all about it. I think he had a better time than he expected. I think he was brave. As I expected the place was full of testosterone riddled young men letting out their aggression issues! Star says Irish Dad was a real asset. He's a large Irish man & was extra good for providing useful coverage.

I've never done this but if I was 20 years younger I might actually give it a go. It was a larger do than I expected. They had two teams of approximately 50 people each & played 10 minute games over several different war zones with high powered rifles full of paintballs. Sounds messy to me...hence the protective gear, I guess. It must work. Star had a few little bruises but nothing like I was expecting her to have. It was steep; I feel for Irish Dad, I really do. He's a business man in real life. Lots of travelling. Running up & down steepish hillsides riddles with Aussie scrub is not his usual thing.

Apparently my child was rather good at this game. She got at least a dozen *kills*. *sigh* I guess the archery classes paid off somewhere. Now she wants to take her sister. She reckons Liddy will enjoy this. I told her to start saving.

Meanwhile Liddy arrived home very late Friday. Saturday morning she left before Star for a youth training seminar at the church then all the youth proceeded to the EKKA & I haven't actually seen her yet. If all else fails, I have to drive her into Garden City on Monday so will have a good half hour to chat uninterrupted. She comes home, runs herself ragged catching up with everybody & socialising, eats all my chocolate because sweets are hard to come by on an Alpaca farm, then heads back to work to rest. Seriously, however hard she works it's nothing to how hard she parties when she comes home!

[sorry. No paintballing pics as cameras & other damagable things aren't allowed in the compound so you will just have to use your imaginations. ☺]