Sylvia and I bought Sean a Wii Zapper for Christmas, so the family spent much of the afternoon gunning down clay pigeons, skeletons and vultures. I was surprised by how much my parents got into it. But perhaps I shouldn't have been too shocked; one day, while I was watching Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter, mom came downstairs, looked at the onscreen action and said, "He has a sucking chest wound. Why isn't there pink foam coming out of his mouth?"
Mom's a stickler for realism.