Jon often wakes up in the morning before I do, before the alarm in the other room starts singing her ABC's, and he'll read blogs and news stories on his laptop to pass the time quietly. Yesterday morning when I finally woke up, my new haircut sticking straight up like Chuck's ears when I mouth the word PIZZA, I turned over and asked him what was going on in the world. He started laughing and mentioned that he had just read a news story about a man who had blown his hand off when he tried to swat a fly with a 40 mm round that had been sitting on his desk as a paperweight. It was still early and I hadn't yet opened both eyes, and my first thought was not 1) Why would someone use a live round as a piece of office equipment? or 2) Had he bought that live round with a gift card to Wal-Mart? My first thought was, "Oh Lord, I wonder which one of my uncles is missing a hand."