This was my first Saturday off in about 6 months. I spent it with my bestest friend in the whole world and her very patient husband. He deals with our uncanny ability to know what each other is thinking, our fits of giggles, and general immature nature that appears when we are together.
I met R when I was in kindergarten. The class bully had her trapped on the merry-go-round, spinning her sadistically while she cried her eyes out and begged him to stop. She was one of those kids that didn't adapt well to being away from her Mom, and some people in this world can just smell that kind of fear from a mile away, even in kindergarten.
Everyone kind of stood around and watched. This kid looked like he had been in kindergarten for a couple of years. Around and around she went with just sudden sightings of tear streaked cheeks being visible. I ran over to him and told him to stop.
Miraculously her did stop, but it was just to teach me a lesson. He pushed me to the ground and began laughing the most sinister, ugly laugh I have ever heard, even to this day. What bully boy didn't count on was that while I was small, I had a brother that was 4 years older then me and a sister that was 8 years older. No super-sized kindergartener was going to scare me.
We proceeded to get into a school yard brawl. I was taking quite a beating, but I wouldn't back down. The "recess teacher" came over and broke it up, and our parents were called. My Mother was mortified, and my Father just sat their silently listening to what happened.
As I walked the walk of the soon to be annahilated to the car, my Mother lectured about how violence is never the answer, blah blah blah. I was the one with tear-streaked cheeks at this point, and my Dad picked me up. He said, "So you did that because the little girl was crying." I shook my head. He gave me a great big hug and whispered, "That's my little girl."
As we were getting into the car, the bully and his Dad were walking up to their car. My Father walked over to their car, and started talking to the boy's Dad. He shook his hand and climbed in our car.
R and I have been the best of friends ever since. The bully never picked on either one of us again, and I became quite the playground legend. A couple of years ago R, her hubby, and I went and visited my parents in the south. We were laughing about our first meeting.
I had never thought of it in the past, but at that moment I remembered my Father walking over to the bully's Dad. He looked nervously at my Mom and said, "I told him that if his kid ever touched you again, I would be at his house that night, and he would get his ass beat three times worse then whatever you had got."
My Dad is 6'5. Enough said.
I guess I am my Dad's little girl....