Sounds like someone’s gotta a case of the Shoulda Coulda Woulda’s…
In the spring of 1988 when I was 7 years old, I was in Flintstone, Georgia at a family reunion at my grandparents’ duplex house. There was a boy from the other side of the duplex about my age who was outside playing while I was. We started chasing each other as some sort of “tag, you’re it” deal. As he was getting near, I hugged the tree, which was the “base”. He couldn’t tag me if I was at the base. So he gave me some kind of classic line like, “I’ll teach you to mess with me!” Then punched me in the stomach, hard.
I was so surprised by his bi-polar behavior that I just stood there at the tree, shocked. By the time I realized what had happened, he had wondered back over to the front porch of his side of the duplex, sort of grinning at me. He won.
That was 22 years ago. But I’ll never forget it. Mainly because since then I’ve wished I would have found a way to punch that kid. I was being his friend and he just punched me.
This isn’t a grudge I’m holding. It’s not a matter of forgiveness being withheld. I’m dealing with no bitterness here.
It’s just the principle of the matter. He needed to be punched by me.
As a boy, you’re secretly always looking for a reason to get to punch someone. I had my chance, but blew it. My parents would have been proud of me. I was just caught so off guard. Dang it and dag gum.
As an adult, you can’t punch other deserving people the way you could as a boy. Stupid lawsuits.
For the philosophical version of this, read: Redo http://wp.me/pxqBU-F7