My little sister has been drawing pictures of snails.
No one has any idea why. She and her best friend – both age 7 – just decided to start drawing snails. For an entire week they drew nothing but snails.
Themed snails, of course.
There was a Gardening Snail, decked out in a broad hat. An Inquisitive Snail, surrounded by question marks. A Party Snail, replete with a disco ball.
I did not think the child had ever seen a disco ball. How she knew to draw them I have no idea.
And then there was the Lafing Snail. This one comes with a written title, so we do not confuse either the theme or the spelling.
Instead of sending these treasures to her dear sister in a far away state, my smallest sibling gave the pictures to Thalia.
Could I let that pass? I think not!
So I declared war.
On Thalia, not my sister.
Lafing Snail War.
Being an honorable person, I sent a notice of my declaration. Via that wonderful tool of personable communiques, Facebook.
Did you know that Facebook would become a weapon of mass hysteria?
Welcome to the battlefield.
(Side Note: Did you know that “hysteria” was the condition described by the Ancient Greeks as A Woman’s Womb Wandering Around Her Body In Search Of Baby, And Upon Not Finding Baby Producing Physical and Emotional Outbursts On The Part of The Woman. Freud brought the word back into use. Isn’t that nice? And so it always makes me giggle to hear a male described as ‘hysterical’. )
Rules: Post anything that is calculated to make the opposing troops snort into their coffee and choke while trying to answer the phones at work. Usually done by mean of Youtube videos.
I made my preemptive strike with a low-key but witty musical number.
Thalia responded sharply, “Crippling preemptive strike! we’re down our whole vanguard. They’ve turned into Groaning Snails. All we can do is make escargot.”
My scouts were paralyzed and the entire battalion was demoralized! Prepare for desperate countermeasures.
Thalia: “French people are swarming like vultures.”
Melpomene marshalled her troops, and began a counter attack.
Thalia rallied, and delivered a bloody blow.
And in a last, flailing defense Melpomene retorted with –
And finally a decisive move spelled my doom.
Oh, fatal youth! I swoon! I pine! I perish! Oh, abso-LUTEly fanTIStic!
Next time, I shall simply declare war on that rapscallion of a seven-year old.
Lafing Snail War. Ha!
(In your opinion, who won the war? And what ammunition would you suggest for the next battle? Just out of curiosity.)