Hail should only fall during daylight hours

If The Professor is out of town, there should be no scary, jerk-awake, the-world-is-ending moments at 3:55 AM that involve waking up to the sound of millions of pieces of debris hitting the house (that turn out to be more than 1 inch pieces of hail), making the cats wail in complaint while your satellite chooses those 30 seconds to blink out (DAMN SATELLITE), insuring that you crawl out from under the blankets far enough to hit the "on" button on the laptop that you thoughtfully left sitting on the night stand (open) because you knew ahead of time that when you woke up in the middle of a bad storm at 4 AM you wouldn't have any TV signal to reassure you that, in fact, it is safe to once more close your eyes. If I don't have some busted out windows on a couple of vehicles in the morning, it will be a reason to eat Girl Scout cookies for breakfast. Since having busted out windows will also insure a need for opening the last box of Samoas at 8 AM, I'm pretty much in a win-win situation here.