In the late 1800's our country underwent the greatest battle on American soil. The Civil War was a battle that fought over the doctrines of slavery after Republican President Abraham Lincoln took office. Lincoln wished to limit the expansion of slavery through our country which eventually spurred the southern states to form a Confederacy and secede from the Union. Over four years through the east, battle after battle commenced. Here in our area was amongst one of the deadliest engagements: The Battle of Fredericskburg.
Fredericksburg was home to one of the most one-sided battles of the war with Union casualties doubling those of the Confederates. The plan had been for the Union to over take Frederickburg and head to the Confederate capital, Richmond. Union plans were trumped and the Confederacy held Fredericksburg while littering the countryside with Union soldiers.
Such is the Battle of the Shorts. Each and every spring the battle commences, a change. Change for our household is a declaration of war on kiddo. It starts with a simple enough trip to about a dozen clothing stores. Kiddos is always with us when we go clothing shopping because he has to see the clothing; the fabric, the seams, the print and the color. We maintain the advantage early in the days of the battle, we know the land and know where the dangers lie. With great calculation, summer clothing is purchased. The opposition lies in wait happily in his pants while the temperatures continue to rise.
Then the second engagement in the battle begins as one day the opposing force steps off the school bus, beads of sweat streaming down his face and shirt soaked in perspiration. I look at him and he stares right back at me. We both know that the time has come. The next morning the battle lines are clearly drawn and chaos erupts. Our early advantage in the battle was clearly presumptuous as the opposing force slings the brand new summer attire across the field of battle. Before we know it the field is strewn with the discarded bits of the mornings engagement, the advantage clearly to the opposition.
I would like to tie this battle up cleanly with our eventual victory, but there is truly no winner in the Battle of the Shorts. The battle rages on for weeks, sometimes months with casualties being pulled from the drawer; discarded and unused because of their wrongness. We would secede victory to the opposition if it weren't for the sweltering summer temperatures. Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose. Those times we lose we save our energy because we know that eventually we must prepare ourselves for Battle of the Socks in the fall.