What's really sad...really, really sad...is that they get me by surprise every single time.  Every.  Single.  Time. 

What does that say about me?

You see, about six months ago, my then 9 yo daughter started the "Sock Attack" tradition.  What she does is to gather up a bunch of socks (old, smelly, clean, fresh, or riddled with holes, it matters not!), roll them into tight little balls, hide them under her bed covers, and then when either her father or I enter her room to kiss her good night, she let's out a blood-curdling scream and attacks us with the sock balls!!

Of course, being the loving, kind, parents that we are, we cannot stand there and take it like wimps, so we gather up all her missiles from around our feet, and hurl them straight back at her.  What follows is a sock attack free-for-all, often with her brothers running out of the their rooms to get in on the fray.  This has become our nightly good-night tradition.

I know.  We are a sick family.

Is it any wonder we cannot ever find clean socks to wear in the morning?  My daughter has been known to search under her bed at the last minute for a clear pair, only to come up with one purple and one yellow.  Naturally, she wears them, and naturally, she has become known as the girl with mismatched socks.  When people notice, I just blame it on the fact that we live on an island - everyone knows islanders are weird!  Oh...if only they knew it was because of the "Sock Attack!"

Recently, I instituted an "old and dirty socks only" rule in our sock attack tradition.  But, naturally, as our need for soft, tight missiles grows greater by the day, not one family member has stuck to that rule.  Now, when I need a clean pair of socks, I don't even bother to go to my sock drawer...no, I simply look under my bed, or on the top shelf of my daughter's closet, or behind my son's headboard, or even underneath the vacuum in the linen closet.

And you thought coming up with matching pairs of socks on laundry day was hard enough...try doing it after an entire week of "Sock Attack"!!

They are getting crafty, those little brats!  Just the other day, I went in to to kiss my daughter good night (yes, I'd totally forgotten about "Sock Attack!"), and just as I bent over the bed, I noticed that the figure in the bed was NOT my daughter, but her life-size Madeline doll!  Right at that moment, her closet door burst open and I was attacked from behind! 

I don't know this will end.  But my youngest child (7 yo Daniel, who has always thought of himself as my protector) reminded me just before he went up to bed that I should expect a sock attack, and he even offered to loan me some of his socks in the battle.  I took him up on it, strategically kissed him good night before I kissed the others, armed myself with a full load, and let loose on Shekinah and Timothy before they knew what hit 'em!

Thing is...I may have won that battle...but the war has just begun!