My Beloved still had her amazingly accurate throwing arm back then and she knew how to use it!

Luckily, a pair of rolled up cotton socks rolled up into a ball has not much greater impact than a, well, a cotton ball.

“Two can play that game”, I yelled as I ran over and grabbed a bunch of the sock-balls from her pile then ran behind a couch and lobbed a pair at her. She ducked behind a chair with a handful of her own, and the “Sock War” was on!

By now our boys were laughing hysterically. They grabbed some sock balls ducked behind furniture and the war escalated. Socks balls were flying everywhere and bouncing off of everyone and everything! We were all laughing so hard that our eyes began watering.

The cool thing about Sock Wars (besides that no one in our family ever got hurt fighting them) is that no one ever runs out of ammunition!

We played until our arms couldn’t throw anymore and we’d laughed so long and hard that our jaws ached.

“Sock Wars” became one of our favorite family traditions and we often played it.

The game’s only rule was that you couldn’t throw dirty socks. Considering how smelly the boys and my feet were, I suspect that it was my Beloved who probably insisted on that rule!

Ironically, it was among the funnest (I know that spell-check doesn’t consider “funniest” to be a real word, but if it isn’t, it SHOULD be!) and funniest things we’ve ever done as a family and it was FREE!

Other than the cost of an occasional re-washing of a load of socks, of course!

(I had to throw that last sentence in there just in case my Beloved ever reads this post!)