Friday, January 02, 2009

This is my son on Nerf

Santa Claus has a great sense of humor when he comes to our house. He brings odd things that don't show up elsewhere: live toads, punching bags, green nail polish, and books, lots and lots of books. He also brings "something to do on Christmas morning" pretty much every year. In various years these have been beach balls to throw at each other, little toys that jump in the air, disc guns that shoot little foam discs all over the house (there seems to be a weaponry theme to his group offering), and this year there were Nerf guns galore. Everyone, except the Labrador, received a Nerf gun in his or her stocking.

The basement was already a Nerf gun arsenal, what with our above teenager's Zombies V. Humans LARP games that he hosts regularly, blacking out our basement with garbage bags over the windows. Very fun, but not for me and the five year-old, who both scare easily.

Yes, we had no intention of seeing guns arrive each Christmas when we began this parenting thing almost 18 years ago. My grandfather was a conscientious objector for goodness' sake. But Nerf guns are a (relatively) safe way to get out some natural aggression and get the old body moving. And there's nothing like a gaming geek covered in Nerf darts to warm a mother's heart.

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