The Water Pistol Fight of the Century

When was the last time you had a good old fashioned water fight out on the front lawn?  A hot day, good food, friends and family all around and somebody suddenly decides it’s a good idea to throw a bucket of water on someone.  Well that requires retaliation of course and before you know it the hose comes out and it’s every man for himself.

Everyone has some sort of water device preference it seems be it a water balloon, your average small squirt gun, those long plastic syringe type thingy’s from the dollar store, a simple hose & sprayer to your major soakers that could pass for Rambo’s weapon of choice.  Recently I was invited to climb into this child’s world of water play and had a “blast”.

It was an aqua-rific battle to the death … well until somebody went runnin’ off cryin’, that is.   My children and their friends got together for an all out “Water War” running around the yard like they were on sugar overload from too many ice pops.    These 3^rd graders weren’t messin’ around either – they actually had “rules” to this splashy sport of theirs.   Their main #1 rule was that nobody was allowed to squirt anyone else while they were in the process of refilling their water pistols in the baby pool.  I was amused and impressed with their honor code of  “thou shall not squirt a sibling in the face when their guard is down trying to re-load”.  They whispered their plan of attack with childish excitement to each other while looking for the others.  Hiding in the bushes trying to conceal a water balloon and trying not to giggle was no easy task for them that’s for sure.  Ambushing a loved one hiding behind the family car with a tank-full of cold water in a super soaker takes skill I observed.

My little guy’s weapon of choice, being his fingers were just too little for the water pistol trigger, was actually the water bottle.  A typical Poland Spring with the sport top enabled him to squirt over a picnic table with a single squeeze.  My daughter musta’ thought she was Annie Oakley since she was packin’ two pistols with full quart capacity and the meanest snarl she could muster up in her pink ruffled bathing suit.  She meant business!  “Hey Mommy, remember how you forgot to pick me up from religion class and I had to sit on the church steps for an hour listening to the priest go on and on?!”  Those were the last words I heard just before a big bucket of ice cold water was dunked on me as I lay on my lounge chair.  Touche!   She’s just lucky the hose didn’t reach that far around the house as I tore after her with the sprayer on full blast and shouting, “I’m gonna get you my pretty, and your little brother too! Hee! Hee! Hee!”   Unfortunately just around the corner of the house was an angry mob of pint-sized kids armed with more water balloons then I’d ever seen.  While my brain was in slow motion screaming at me, “Go back! It’s a trap!” they let loose their arsenal.  Like a Tom and Jerry cartoon I jumped outta’ my skin and tried diving behind a couple of garbage cans but got pelted in the back of the head with a kajillion water explosions of monsoon proportions.  I swear I was picking colored pieces of rubber out of my hair two days later.

Out of breath, soaked, with grass stained knees I took cover in the backyard to re-group.  I tried calling for a back-up battalion of adults grilling nearby but they threw me under the bus.  “You’re doin’ fine – think of how good they’ll sleep tonight,” they shouted over their shoulders while sucking down cold Coronas in the shade.   So I pulled a ‘Benedict Arnold’ and joined forces with these three foot tall water terrors and sent all those grown up’s screamin’ every which way trying to escape our wrath!   Finally one of them held up a white T-shirt in an attempt to surrender.  “Aren’t you a little old for water fights, Carol?!” they yelled, ducking behind lawn chairs.

By the time we were done you’d think we went through a car wash but without the car.  Bathing suits were saggin’, hair was plastered to their faces, all the adult’s clothes and shoes were soppin’ wet and the lawn was a muddy swamp.  Ahh… but this fun and nostalgic memory will provide years of laughter for everyone that was dragged into this childish water game.  I highly recommend it for whatever ails ya’.

Read more of Carol’s blog at her Smirk Website