Snowball Fight!

Back when I was a young lad, I loved nothing more than a good snowball fight. The heft of a sloppy slushball in your hand...the whistle of the wind in your hair as you like hell from your big brother and his murderous throwing arm...the pinching cramp in your legs as you hunkered down behind a bush, waiting for your best friend to turn the corner so you could smack him upside the head with an airborne sno-cone--I loved every bit of it. I could even tolerate the whole getting-hit-in-the-face-by-a-flying-chunk-of-ice element. After all, you have to enjoy the bad with the good.

I do remember, though, that even the wild, shoot-em-up world of snowball fights had rules. No rocks in the snowballs. No sleds--you had to move under your own power. No using icicles as shivs. And most important of all, no hoses! Nothing could upset the balance of power faster than an ice-cold water jet. It was mean, sneaky, and low-down. Only cowards used the hose.

This, however, might be worse. I don't think we made a rule against it, but then again, I don't think the situation ever called for one.