Posted by: husbandandfatheroffour | October 14, 2013

Battle Of The Boys! 12 & 13 VS 38

It is 5pm on a Sunday evening.  I have just entered our house from the garage.  As I start to stroll across the living room my 13 year old boy stares me down.  I stare intensely back at him.  He then opens his mouth and says, “What?”  You know that, “What are you going to do about it,” kind of “what?”  From there I knew it was on.  So I showed him no fear and started walking over towards him never taking my eyes away from his.  As I get closer that smirk he had on his face turned into a nervous grin.  Just as I go to grab him, his I’m so bad “what?” turned into a puppy dog eyes, with a smile, kind of what.

“Oh it’s too late for that now son.” I told him.

He swiftly scurries from one side of the couch to the other trying to get away.  Just as he starts to reach the other side and tries to jump off I am able to grab him by his ankle.  I start pulling him back towards me doing my evil, Ha Ha Ha, laugh.  Just as I have his collar in reach of my hands I hear an, “AAAHHHHH!” and then a football shot to my ribs.  His younger brother (12) has come to help him.  It causes me to stumble a moment but I am able to regain my balance, reach my arm under him, and then pick him up and toss him onto the other couch.  Now his older brother has found a way to wiggle off of the couch and down to my feet where he sits on them and wraps his arms around my legs so I can’t move.  As I bend down to pry his arms off, I notice out of the corner of my eye that the younger boy had propelled himself off of the couch, into the air, and was taking aim at the upper half of my body.

With a mighty wallop it was a direct hit, knocking me over onto the floor.  They had toppled me over and now where both in a position to hold me down.  Quickly my younger son flipped over and around landing his buttocks onto the side of my head as I barely had time to even turn it that way.  Then I hear my oldest son yell, “Fire!”  My eyes are looking around like there was a fire because we knocked over a candle or something but no, not even close.  As my eyes scanned the room I suddenly felt my head vibrating against the floor.  As the vibration stopped a stench of rotten everything started to fill my nose.  It was horrible!  It was as if I was lying on top of the trash dump on a 100 degree/100% humidity day.  I was confused.  I didn’t know whether I wanted to vomit or pass out.  As he jumped off my oldest then took his hands and grabbed my nipples, twisting them in a 360 degree circle while yelling, “PURPLE NURPLES!” 

With those gripping twists it made me pop up and scream.  The only problem with that is the deadly gas that my younger boy had relinquished on me hadn’t dissipated all the way yet.  I fell back down gagging and choking.  I was losing oxygen and on the brink of defeat when I realized something.  They had stopped and where standing up on each side of me looking down upon me like they had just become victorious.  I knew there was only one more chance for me to pull this out and it had to be now or never.  While still low on oxygen I flung one of my legs into the air about six inches bringing it behind my oldest boy and sweeping his feet out from under him.  At the same time I did that I took one of my arms and did the same thing to my younger boy.  They both fell to the ground with a might thump.

I was able to quickly pop up and sit on them both, my weight crushing them and forcing all the breath out of them.  This weakened them tremendously and gave me full control.  I then, with each hand, grabbed both of their underwear and pulled them until they reached the back of their heads while yelling, “WEDGIES!”  Now there was only one thing left to do.  I took the younger boy and pulled him over and stuffed his head under his brother’s underwear that I had stretched out.  As I started to walk away I bent down and pulled on my oldest son’s finger causing him to release some of that deadly gas that they like to use so much.  It was as if he had gotten a big dose of smelling salt and he rapidly pulled his head out and scooted over to the other side of the room.  I just stood there with my chest pushed out and my arms slightly bent and hanging to my side (you know that cocky looking pose).  I could see the defeat in their eyes and they could see the victory in mine.  I slowly turned and gave a Judd Nelson fist pump as I walked away once more victorious in the battle of the boys.

When I got to my room I closed my door and immediately fell onto the bed.  I was gasping for air, sweating profusely, and wondering if I feel asleep if I would wake up within the next year.  I was exhausted, battered, and bruised.  I knew right then that I had only a couple of years left of winning, if that.  One day they would walk away with the fist pump and the victory and I would be left just sitting there defeated but proud.  My boys weren’t just becoming men but men that I knew could take care of themselves.  It won’t be much longer and they won’t need their dad’s protection, but no matter what they will always have me there to stand beside them when I am needed.    

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