Sock Fireworks

I've pretty much been tired all day. This is mostly Joey's fault for throwing his unmentionables "over me" this morning on his way to work. They landed on my head and SCARED ME TO DEATH.

He argues that they merely landed near me, but I know different.

I decided about 12:30 to take a nap, so I climbed into my bed and got a book. I figured I'd fall asleep in no time at all.

This was not, unfortunately, the case. I began to wake up, pretty much the second I got in bed.

"Joey, what would happen if I threw this bear up into the fan?"

Joey turned a page in his book and said, absentlhy, "It would fly over and hit the wall."

"Oh. So I shouldn't do that then."

"No, probably not. But socks are OK." Joey grabbed one of his wadded up socks and tossed it to me.

I threw it up into the fan. The sock went up, hit the ceiling, came down and hit the fan, and flew sharply to the left, landing in the laundry basket.

"WOAH!! DID YOU SEE THAT?!" I was really awake now. I grabbed the sock again and tossed it up. It landed in the laundry basket.

Joey, at this time, was quite amused by my antics and was scurring all over the room to collect socks. I began throwing them, rapid fire, into the ceiling fan. Most of them were landing in the laundry basket.

I was laughing harder and harder, tears were beginning to work their way out of my eyes.

Joey looked at me, "You ARE tired, aren't you?"

"I guess, maybe. Did you do this as kids or something?"

"Of course." Joey presented me with another pile of socks, ripe for the throwing.

My siblings and I never even thought of this. We really missed out.