It's advance planning on my part because tomorrow we're "supposed" to have our photo taken for the church directory - assuming Amy is satisfied that her make-up magic will hide her amazing "shiner" which changes colors, and locations almost hourly.
Someone I think asked Thao (our current upper room ministry house-guest) at a church gathering we sort of forced her to go to Sunday - I had to get there early and Amy wasn't on my schedule so she woke up Thao and begged for a ride with the offer of "there's food!" - if I ever "hit" Amy...lovely.
Blessedly Thao has come to know us well enough to laugh at that suggestion...I think.
I swear I'm going to get an affidavit made up and have Amy take it to like 40 people she's fallen down in front of - if I can narrow down that list to 40 - and have them sign it attesting to the fact my poor wife bruises easily, falls down too often, and I don't hit her.
In truth, I don't think I've actually hit anybody since sixth grade when I bravely challenged a kid named Jimmy Mercante to a "fight" after school. He was the smallest kid in our class. I don't remember what prompted our "dispute" but I do remember thinking, "How tough could this be? Jimmy is like 3 feet tall?"
Plus, I'd been beaten on by the best...I'm the youngest of three brothers.
I towered over Jimmy.
I learned a quick lesson that day...size doesn't matter.
Oh, settle down. I mean as an indicator of your boxing abilities.
I learned this fact later but I'm telling you ahead of time, Jimmy's dad was named Arthur Mercante. If you were a boxing fan in premiere days of boxing...before Don King and pay-per-view. When a guy named Muhammed Ali, or really even when he was known as Cassius Clay was amazing the nation and the world, the name Arthur Mercante may still ring a bell.
It rung my bell I'll tell you that.
At that time, Arthur Mercante was perhaps the most respected boxing referee in the nation. Today he's a legend.
Oh yeah...you know how this fight ended, all you need to know is how long it lasted.
My one and only fist fight lasted about 6 seconds, and I think Jimmy landed about 40 punches during that time. He'd been around boxing rings since he was born.
Come to think of it, I don't recall ever actually hitting him.
Honestly, I may never have hit anyone in my life.
Jimmy and I became friends within minutes...once my bleeding stopped.
It was a good lesson. I learned new defense mechanisms real fast...like making jokes...and how to run.
I never challenged anyone to fight again.
So anyway, I am "supposed" to be planning a Bible study right about now, but I stopped.
Amy was out most of the afternoon and came home a little while ago. I think I'd rather sit on the porch with her and spend a little time making sure she knows I love her. I know she knows that but I don't think she always realizes that when I see her in pain...or even with a bruise...I feel the pain too...perhaps more than she does.
I don't "suppose" she'll complain if I put off the Bible study prep for a while.
Besides, if I have to, I've already got a story I can pull out at the last minute for the Bible study.
It's about when I was in sixth grade.
It's only about six seconds long, but I think I can flesh it out.
After all, I'm supposed to be leading our group in a study of David.
I think I'll start out the study like this...
Once upon a time, I thought I was Goliath...
