Sockballs and Snowballs

My brother is 5 years older than me.  I think we had a typical relationship.  I was a little brat and he’d pound on me when he was sure he could get away with it.  We grew up in a great neighborhood with kids that had a lot of imagination. 

My brother and I (it was probably just his idea) made up a game of rolling our socks into balls and throwing them at each other.   We probably had a name for it but I don’t remember.  We would take time to ball up our socks and I would build protective walls to make things more even and for my safety.  We had designated areas we weren’t supposed to cross but if you could reach a sock on the other side of the line you could.  When we were both ready, we would start throwing socks at each other.  As it always seemed to happen, at some point, my brother would come out of his area with an armful of socks and start pummeling me in a barrage of tube socks.  He had a way of saving the most tightly packed socks for such moments and would throw them as hard as he could onto my prone form as I tried to protect myself. 

Predictably, something would hurt and I’d start crying.  If mom was home, I would go to cry and whine to her.  She would sooth me and probably yell at my brother to leave me alone.  No wonder why he seemed to take joy out of pounding on me.  I was a bratty kid. 

I remember once having a snowball fight with my brother.  He was on one side of the street and I was on the other.  We made a bunch of snowballs and then started the bombardment.  Well, it was bombardment on my side.  I was busy hiding and throwing whenever there was a lull in the snowballs heading my way.  At one point, I remember hiding behind the snow bank and sort of laughing to myself.  I couldn’t believe I hadn’t gotten hurt yet.  I hadn’t even gotten hit yet.  I started to raise up and just started to blurt out, “I can’t believe I hadn’t gotten hit…”  POW!   I got nailed right in the forehead. 

Many years later, my sister and brother were in college and I was in high school.  We went to a New Year’s Eve service at church and joked about our parents who didn’t go.  The heathens!  As we went into church, it was snowing.  As we exited the church to head home, we were met with a beautiful winter wonderland.   The snow was still falling  as everyone began cleaning the snow off the cars.  I don’t remember who started it but I’m sure it was my brother throwing a snowball at me.  Although, I wouldn’t put it past my sister either.  Before you  know it, everyone from the church was involved.  Snowballs were flying all across the parking area and no one was safe or exempt.  We battled for at least 30 minutes before saying our goodbyes and giving well wishes for the new year.  Our snowball battle continued after we got home.

I remember thinking for the first time, I was an equal to my siblings.  While I would always be the baby brother, age and my size made me an equal.  I was no longer a target or pushover.  I love my family and love remembering times like these.