Never Underestimate the Mom

Last year my husband somehow got it into his head that we (him, myself and the man-child) needed Nerf guns for Christmas.  The guns are plastic and shoot these little yellow bullets that are made from nerfy-spongey stuff with a purple, plunger like tip, that if shot up real close, they will stick to your glasses.  Trust me on this.

The little "mock" battles that we had were fun for like um, a minute.  So I, in my infinite mother's wisdom, took it upon myself to hide them after the third day of being ambushed from behind the recliner by my husband.  One would think that I would have started to anticipate the impact of the spongy bullet once the giggling had commenced from behind the furniture, but alas, he was just too darn quick for me.

Now this year, he once again took it upon himself to ensure that we, as a family had many more hours of fun.  He bought us the Three-Shooter Pistols.  Yes, yes, I know!  I was thrilled (I say this while rolling my eyes so far back that I almost pass out).

Now these might not look that cool to you, but apparently the hubby thought so.  Most of Christmas day was spent in a Nerf battle of epic proportions.  Between Man-Child and the Hubby ganging up on me and then me scrambling around trying to collect all of the ammo off the floor, it was a sight to see I assure you. But then I remembered something.

Mwahahaha, I laugh while rubbling my hands together in evil glee.  I have suddenly remembered where I hid the SHOTGUNS!

I barricaded myself in the bedroom so I could get to my secret weapon stash.  The Hubby is concerned and contrite.  "Seriously, I am done playing guys." I say in my best "Mom" voice.  "You guys can play but I don't want to be hit anymore."  I could hear the Hubby telling Man-Child that I was getting irritated and they decided to put the guns away and watch a movie.  That was their first mistake.

Their second mistake was completely reloading their pistols and leaving them on the kitchen counter, out of sight from the living room where they sat.  I quietly snuck into the kitchen and snagged them, and went back into the bedroom to prepare.  I now had three, fully loaded pistols, and two double barrel shotguns.  They, well, they had nothing.  Hee Hee.

The pistols have convenient little clips so you can hang them from your belt.  Which I was eternally grateful for since I had a shotgun in each hand.  They never saw it coming.

I waited outside the kitchen door, shotguns at the ready.  I knew that it was just a matter of time before one of them got thirsty.  Poor Hubby.  He was the first to get hit.  Straight in the neck as he drank milk straight out of the carton with the fridge door open.  All he saw was a flash of purple velour robe as I ducked back out of sight. But not before I saw him reach for the pistols that were no longer there.  Then he ran.

"Take cover!" The Hubby and Man-Child barricaded themselves behind the sofa cushions while I pelleted them with the Nerf bullets.  Man-Child showed some brains and started picking up the ammo and throwing them at me.  Considering his bathroom skills, I was surprised by his accurate aim.  But it also gave me the opportunity to re-load.  Thanks.

The war raged on for a grueling ten minutes.  We then called a truce.  Well, sort of.  I rounded up all the ammo and reloaded, then put the guns away.  The next day while the guys were out, I hid them all around the house.  Now when they are being douche-bags, I like to randomly shoot them with the lovely little, yellow spongy bullet.  Take that!

This video here has nothing to do with me but it's funny.