Mart sat back on the family room couch and adjusted the volume on the television. He opened a bag of Cheetos and eased the pull tab off a can of Coke.

"Ahhhh, this is the life," he sighed as he tuned into a baseball game. A constant stream of Cheetos from the bag to Mart’s mouth only added to his contentment. A short time later, a home run made him jump up in excitement. But as he started to sit back on the couch, he noticed that his fingers were all orange.

"Yuck," he grimaced. He looked around the room for a napkin or a towel, but couldn’t find one. He thought about wiping his hands on his pants, but didn’t want to have orange stains on his clothing. Mart looked at his mother’s magazines piled on the coffee table . He shot a quick glance over his shoulder, making sure he was alone. Then he grabbed one of the magazines off the table and flipped through it. Spreading it wide open, he laid it on the coffee table an wiped his fingers across the glossy pictures. Satisfied with his semi-clean hands, Mart sat back down and continued to watch the game. He was interrupted a short time later by the sounds of laughter from the front porch. He recognized the voices of his sister and her friend Tad. Mart heard the front door open and the two entered the front hall of the farmhouse. The continuing laughter roused Mart’s curiosity and he got up to see what was so funny. When he looked around the corner into the hall, he gasped. Big, bright splotches of color covered the two friends’ clothing as well as their arms and legs. Tad looked up and saw Mart standing in the doorway watching them.

"Hey, Mart," Tad called out as he slipped off his shoes.

"What'd you two do?" Mart demanded.

"Paintball, Mart," Trixie answered. "And we had a blast. You should come with us next time."

Trixie toed out of her tennis shoes and laid them aside. She and Tad headed toward the kitchen to find a snack that they could take out to the backyard. As they passed through the family room, they saw Mart’s snack sitting on the coffee table. Trixie grinned when she saw the magazine. Picking it up, she waved it toward Mart’s face.

"I think the real question is, ‘what'd you do?’" Trixie asked gleefully.

"Tsk! Tsk!," said Tad, shaking his head from side to side. "Try a spoon next time, buddy." He slapped Mart on the back and then turned and followed Trixie into the kitchen.