Me And Animals Part II

So....here is the end of the story, the part which prompted my wife to incorrectly and slanderously claim that I "flailed my arms like a girl".

My grandmother, Nanoo (yep, the one who's cow attacked me) is visiting for several weeks. So, we were over to visit. We had a nice meal on the patio and hung out for a while and ended the evening by watching a movie. It was quite late and I had to be at work the next day so we began loading up our crew to go. All of the kids were either asleep or very tired and it's become a bit of a tradition for my parents to carry the kids out to the van and buckle them in and do hugs and kisses. So, my father was walking out the front door carrying my 6 year old Josiah and I was right behind them. They went out the door first and I was right behind them when my dad looked at the door jamb and said "Oh look there's a frog" So, I looked. And this is when it all began. You see, I have a real issue with small critters. I would rather face the cow all over again than a charging squirrel. Thanks to Alfred Hitchcock I have a real issue with birds flying too close to me out of fear that they will either peck my eyeballs out while I lie squirming on the ground, or that they will steal something valuable of mine like the peacock in Florida that stole my giant chocloate chip cookie when I was a kid. When I was a teenager our cat chased a chipmunk into the house and I nearly lost all control of my bladder.

I would say that given the choice I would rather wrestle a Kodiak bear the size of Gentle Ben than have to deal with an angry bunny rabbit.

So...that should give some context to the rest of the story.

As I see this frog crawling up the door jamb from the corner of my eye my dad says "Ooh (which was a bit girlie in my opinion) it's a rat" OOHHH MMMYYYY GGGGOOODDD there's a rat within a foot of me and it's just high enough on the doorjamb to facilitate an easy leap onto my head to bore into my ear and feast on my brain while I die a slow painful neurologically torturous death. Granted...it's the size of a tree frog but PLEASE can't I choose to have a pregnant angry cow charging me??!!! If that freaking thing would have touched me I would have died an unintentionally self inflicted death in my efforts to escape it's blood soaked fangs!

Well...this is where there are a few different versions of the story. Everybody at the house (isn't it amazing how everyone but me can be completely mistaken on the actual facts of the story?) They all say I screamed in a high pitched tone as I spun in a circle flapping my arms. Really now...does that sound like me?

Here is the reality. In a moment of bravery and clarity, I managed to escape the throes of death at the claws of a vicious rodent.

The high pitched scream was really a Braveheart-esque war cry.

The spinning in a circle and flapping my arms is a gross misunderstanding of athleticism. All real men out there understand the swim move that Warren Sapp so aptly mastered and displayed for all Defensive Tackles the world over. See, my father and 6 year old son had me pinned in as a buffer between them and the beast. Now...I love my son and all but really...how can I leave a legacy if a R.O.U.S. (rodent of unusual size) has severed my jugular? So...I had to think of myself first.

I had the most flawless technique. With the left hand I slapped my father in the head to throw him off guard while simultaneously stepping through his block by completing a swim stroke with my right hand and in a feat of true beauty busted a spin move springing me clear of all danger. Remember....a war cry and a beautiful, athletic, brutal swim/spin move.

I then stood back about 20 feet while he killed the little critter with a shovel.

Gotta stay on your toes WHEN ANIMALS ATTACK!!!!!

Come on, lets show them a solid front, leave a comment acknowledging what a brave and stunning specimen of a man I am.