The Final Sock War

This story is stolen from my dad, but it’s one of my absolute favorites that I’ll definitely pass on to the next generation. When he was a kid, he had been the prankster of the family. Being the oldest, he’d often recruit his younger siblings to do a lot of the dirty work for him. His father (my grandpa) would start what they called “sock wars” with the kids, which is when they would bunch socks up into little balls, put a ton of them in one bag, and then throw them at each other. One particular evening my dad was able to put an end to the sock war with his younger brother, Steve. Although it was not intentional, the two of them managed to scar themselves for lives, end their favorite game permanently, and make their parents rage.

                Steve and my father had just gotten finished bunching up several socks after 20 minutes of laborious work, and were ready for the sneak attack of the century. The dynamic duo started crawling up the stairs as quietly as possible at 11 at night, but did not see the potential outcome of this sneak attack. They finished climbing the stairs, and swung the door wide open, throwing socks at my grandpa. They didn’t realize what they had done until after they had done the damage. They had “ruined a good time” for my grandparents, if you catch my drift. They ended up getting grounded, but I think just seeing their parents in that state would be enough punishment. Needless to say, they never tried that again.