The Great Nerf Family Feud of 2013

One benefit to not having cable TV in the new apartment is that Jason and I have to find other ways to entertain ourselves.  And that is how The Great Nerf Family Feud of 2013 began.

It all started innocently enough.  When unpacking, I put away Jason's old Nerf guns in their box under the bed and commented to him about his impressive collection and how I had to leave one of the guns out of the box and on the floor, because the box wouldn't close tightly enough to fit under the bed otherwise.

Later, I was minding my own business reading on the couch when Jason, peeking out towards me from the hallway, plastered me with a carefully aimed stream of Nerf darts. I hopped out of my seat and ducked behind the couch for cover, avoiding the flying purple styrofoam bullets until he had to reload.  Then I made a run for my own Nerf gun.

Our first Nerf battle ended fairly amiably, although we disagree about who won.  After the battle and picking up all the strewn Nerf darts, Jason got ready to call his brother. "Tell him that it was too bad he couldn't be here and on your team for the Nerf war, maybe then you would have won," I told him, smiling and poking him in the ribs.

Score: Carissa 1, Jason 0

Battle Two lasted much longer.  Jason took up station behind the chaise portion of the sectional couch.  I had my base on the other side of the couch by the front door where I was partially shielded by a coat rack.  We took turns peeking our heads out and shooting; I crouched down as Nerf disks thudded the floor and wall behind me, then I retaliated. Up, Shoot, Down, Reload, Up Shoot, Down, Reload. Collect more ammo. Repeat. Once the plastic clinking sounds of Nerf guns being reloaded finally ended and we called a truce, a carnage of Nerf darts and disks was strewn around our house in disarray. Standing up from my crouching battle position, I pulled my shirt away from my stomach and Nerf disks fell out and around me like I was a lottery machine expelling coins. I had been taking the Nerf ammunition from the floor around me during the battle, shoving them down my bra for when I needed to reload.  We picked up the debris, only finding about a three-fourths of the ammunition we had used.

It has been days since our last battle, but I keep finding Nerf ammunition around the house.  I've found some stray disks in my purse, one under the couch, and a dart in the reading bin between the living room and the dining room.  I'm collecting them like precious extra rations and preparing for the next Nerf campaign to take place in our house.

This morning, I put on my snow-boots, which have been sitting by the door waiting for a chilly day like today, and there was something in the heel of one of them.  I pulled my foot out of the shoe quickly, initially worried that a very large bug or a mouse had crawled inside and that I had squished it. Then, more logically, I stuck my hand in the shoe expecting to pull out a bunched-up sock.  What was in my shoe?  A Nerf bullet, of course!