Not much is said as we all step onto the large mat. “Are you going to wrestle in that baggy T-shirt?” “I’m modest and shy. Give me a minute.�... I plead. I pull the T-shirt off and suffer their stares for a while. Becoming impatient, I grab Bobby and throw him to the mat. Before they can respond, I’ve also thrown Billy to the mat. They are not pleased.“Hey. Tell us when you’re going to start.” “Yea. This isn’t street fighting.” They admonish. Perhaps I was over the line, but I didn’t like. Mom shuffled straight to the coffee pot where she managed to pour herself a mug. She spilled a little and, contrary to her usual fussiness, ignored it. Mom didn’t even put cream in her coffee. She set her mug on the table but before sitting down, she changed her mind and shuffled to the sink to get a cloth to wipe up the spilled coffee. As she did, she rubbed her behind with her free hand.“Eric. Are you sure those bruises are gone? I’m feeling a little sore back there this morning.”I sprung to. More

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