Friday, May 31, 2013

The War to End All Wars

The War to End All Wars

It all started when my wife took our daughter with her on a trip to see her mother, leaving me to look after my sons and the sons of family friends. That was all it took. The complete absence of estrogen was, in my view, the main cause of the all out war that would soon erupt.

It was my wife’s fault of course - though she will never admit it. She should never have left town (and left me in charge). At the time, two of my friend’s teenaged sons were staying with us. Add me and my two sons and that's five guys. Alone. Folks, that is a lot of testosterone to leave unchecked by female intervention.

I had a rare three days off and I was determined to make it count. I began making plans the moment I learned of my wife’s trip. I quietly enlisted the help of my middle child because he was by far the most devious. By the time my wife left, my devious son and I had already taken a trip to Toys R Us to buy a "butt-load" of toy guns - the kind of guns that shot those little plastic disks about the size of a quarter. I wonder if they still make those. Anyway, we bought a bunch of them, a bunch of goggles to protect our eyes, and a TON of ammunition (believe me… there was a ridiculous amount of ammo available).

As soon as my wife left we were ready. I doubt her car made it out of the driveway before we got started. My first-born and my other two victims were oblivious to the destruction that was about to rain down upon them. We (my devious middle son and I) almost gave it away though we were giggling so much. I remember they (our victims, the enemy) were in the family room playing video games. The first inkling they had that something was about to go down was when I tossed a plastic bag filled with three guns, goggles and several boxes of disks on the floor in front of them. They looked up and saw my devious son and I already goggled up, weapons loaded.

It didn’t take long for them to figure it out and they began laughing and screaming and desperately ripping at the bag. They scrambled for cover... but it was too late. They hurled threats of dire consequences as they frantically loaded their weapons, but the threats didn’t stop us. We unleashed HADES and blasted them mercilessly (aiming for torsos and butts). By the time they got their goggles on and their ammo loaded we'd already emptied our weapons and retreated to the fortress we built earlier… unbeknownst to them.

My son and I had constructed our fortress using whatever was available. We built it with the family room couch we had overturned. Our opposition was left with the love seat, a couple of chairs and the pillows they'd stolen from our couch-fortress during a daring "midnight raid".

The battlefield was limited to the living room, the family room, and the kitchen. For the most part we stayed behind cover in our fortress, only venturing out to get more ammunition (which lay strewn around the room in abundance) or to attack when we knew they were low on ammo. The fighting was relentless and on more than one occasion degraded to hand to hand WWE style combat and tickling.

I ordered a bunch of pizzas each day and a truce had to be called when the delivery guy rang the doorbell. I made it absolutely clear… if anyone took a shot at me when I left cover to pay the pizza guy there would be NO PIZZA for them. They weren’t stupid. As soon as the pizza was paid for and divided up the war recommenced. You ate whenever and wherever you could. The war raged for three days with only periodic truces being called for bathroom breaks (or complete exhaustion). Couches and chairs were overturned; pizza boxes, candy wrappers and empty soda cans were everywhere.

For three days nobody showered… for three days no one changed their clothes. Shirtless smelly bodies darted here and there collecting ammunition or attacking the enemy. The excited shouts of the victorious could barely be heard over the painful shrieks of the vanquished!

Hey... War is Hell!

The plan on Day 3 was to shower, change, and clean up so we could restore the house to its natural state before my wife returned.

We lost track of time. 

The war came to a sudden and abrupt end when she came home unexpectedly - and we were ALL in BIG trouble. I was in the doghouse for months.

However, that’s not where the story ends. What we didn’t realize was that those little disks had gone EVERYWHERE and although we had done our best to collect them all we'd missed a few. For years afterward my wife would stumble upon one of those disks and be instantly reminded of the mess she came home to. If I were away or at work she would tack it to the front door or tape it to the refrigerator. If I was unlucky enough to be home she'd hold up the disk and shoot me that angry disapproving look only wives can give (there must be a special school were they learn stuff like that because I’ve seen my mom give it to my dad many times).

My sons and I always had the same reaction: we’d look remorseful and repentant as long as her eyes were on us but as soon as she turned her back we’d make eye contact and smile. Because in that instant we were remembering the greatest war... the war we waged over three days of complete freedom.

It was the kind of war legends are made of. It was “The War to End All Wars!”

Not a subscriber?
Enter your name and e-mail address below to receive blog posts automatically.
Sign-up now! 

We respect your email privacy
Powered by AWeber Email Marketing Services

No comments:

Post a Comment