It wasn't really a war. More like an insurgency, if you think about it.
Mensa Boy was out of town. Some of his very nice SmartWool socks were in the wash. When they came through the process, they "ended up" in my drawer. They are very nice socks. Very comfy especially when one is wearing a special shoe on one's BROKEN FOOT.
But. I was busted. Yesterday I lost my attention and opened my drawer while MB was standing nearby. He spotted the migrant socks right away.
"Uh, those socks. Can I have them back? Or do you need them for your foot?" he asked.
Sure. I could have played the BROKEN FOOT card. But I didn't. I would have felt too guilty.