Saturday, October 2, 2010

NERF to the Noggin

Ever been hit in the noggin? What a whack of degradation. Ever hit someone in the noggin? What a reaffirmation of superiority. I experienced both today in a NERF war for the textbooks.

It all began with an innocent soccer practice. I've always been afraid of soccer balls. It may be from the time a soccer ball killed my childhood rabbit, traumatizing me forever. Soccer ball, fox, they're all the same to me. Or it may be because soccer balls are hard and about the size of your face and people kick them at you and sometimes they miss and just kick you directly.

Anyways, I wanted shin guards and a face mask to protect myself from my warrior soccer beast athlete husband, but he insisted I get over my fear of soccer balls instead--plus the shin guards only came in "Pansy".

We played, we joked, we laughed, I flinched, I ran away in fear, and we came together as a soccer team in love and unity. Then we grabbed our NERF guns and started shooting the heck out of each other. Hits to the head, face, eyes, other areas of pain (sorry, Honey), all legal.

After our war, we left our guns and darts strewn about the playground, I mean battleground, so that other children, I mean children, could play with them. I forgot we were in Mormon-covered Lyman, WY, so it might take a few weeks for some kid to steal them and know to shoot them at people instead of animals.