It's just after ten pm and I'm settled in my favourite chair working on my latest shawl, downstairs, when all hell breaks loose. I hear loud bams, thumping on the floor above my head and what sounds like Angel tearing through the house, upstairs. My first thought was that DH had tripped over the coffee table, knocking some large, heavy items off and landed on the cat. I raced upstairs to see if anyone was hurt but DH was on his way downstairs to find out what the heck I was doing to cause such a commotion. If he didn't do it and I didn't do it, I knew it must have come from outside. Sure enough, when we opened the front door we found some little, probably teenaged #&$!* with nothing better to do had used a paintball gun on the front of our house. He'd got the livingroom window, the glass pane beside the front door and the front door. There was white paint spattered all over the front porch and little broken balls the size of large marbles all over the porch and ground. I got a bucket of soapy water and mopped up the mess. I'm sure we'll find more paint spatters on the house in the light of day. I would love to fill every orifice on his body with paintballs and pretend he's a pinata.