the brotherhood of the travelling pants

Forget the sisterhood. (Well, not entirely, because someday I want to either read the books or watch the movies. But hold that thought.) We're talking more like "band of brothers, marching together" here. On July 19, James and his work buddies participated in a day of paintballing somewhere across the river in Gatineau Park. I don't remember hearing the name of the place, but after a quick and dirty Google search (gotta' love that Google), I think it must be Taktik Paintball.

This was the bottom line:


Actually, not too bad considering this was an all-day event, 8am to 6pm, and the guys were slithering through shrubbery and mud in conditions of heat and humidity. Reports have it there were two women present, but they preferred taking photos to taking shots in the head. Smart girls.

Anyway, when it came time to doing the laundry, I just pretended I was Kelly Ripa in the Tide commercial. (Except I don't use the 2x ultra; I use the "he - high efficiency" detergent for front-loading washers.) Yes, I did my spousely duty by the pants, but I absolutely refused to have anything to do with cleaning up the boots. I think they're still in a garbage bag in the basement. Don't think they'll walk away any time soon, more's the pity.