Rack 'Em

The other day I arrived at ESS (Chicken's after school program) to pick up my sweet, darling boy. My sweet, darling, comic, flamboyant and outspoken boy. The same boy whose group of girlfriends has been schooling him in being tougher. At home Chicken and I work on using his words to keep the fuckers/bullies off of his back. He also knows that if someone is harassing him, starts a fight and he isn't able to walk away, he can protect himself and I will back him up 100%.

While waiting for Chicken to arrive at the ESS office, I noticed a large fifth grade boy sitting in the office area looking quite miserable. The teacher asked him what his problem was and he sullenly replied that his stomache ached. I dismissed the event when Chicken came bouncing into view and we got into the car. Chicken was positively giddy that afternoon, and after settling him down I heard the best story ever.

Chicken walked up to that same fifth-grader and said "hi" earlier that afternoon. Not just "hi" but "hi" in a cheery, clownish, somewhat manic Chicken patented greeting. The kid's friend called Chicken a moron. The kid asked Chicken if he wanted to fight and started getting into Chicken's face and hitting him in the torso area. Chicken walked away and the kid followed him being a total prick. Chicken strode up to a wall and stopped with the fucker right behind him. Then Chicken kicked back behind him. Hard. He kicked the dumbass right in the family jewels. The kid grabbed his balls with an "oof" and muttered "that didn't hurt" before hobbling off to the office where he complained of a tummy ache.

How proud was I at that moment? So proud I could have hugged a nasty one-legged hooker with multiple veneral diseases.

*Disclaimer: If you are a clean, well-groomed, one-legged hooker free of all diseases I mean no disrespect toward you, your profession or your hilarious way of hopping around the street corner.