I took a week off from the Funny Farm.
I needed a rest.
And my house is a sty.
And summer is passing me by, again.
The loveables, the other staff and I have been busy...busier than usual.
I agreed we'd take a "catering job" which entailed preparing food for an extra 50 people every day for eight days straight.
Thank God....last Thursday wrapped that extra duty up.
I am no caterer.
You can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear.
Or something to that effect.
One of the loveables, a pint sized strong man who goes around picking people up picked me up the other day.
He came up behind me and threw his arms around my arms and up I went...feet dangling in the air.
50 year old feet dangling.
In the air...
I'm pretty sure I laughed at first...I think I was so caught off guard and shocked that that was my first emotion.
Then I hollered "PUUUUT ME DOWN!!!!"
One of my coworkers was standing near and ordered him to "LET HER GO!!!"
When my feet were planted firmly on the ground once again I had a strange thought....
My own boys have picked me up before...and when ordered to "put me down" they respected me and did as I said.
When my brother did it, and didn't put me down I elbowed him in the ribs and donkey kicked him in the nuts...he dropped me, then ran like hell.
Okay so while I didn't feel threatened...I also didn't feel the respect that I should be gettting from this youth.
So how to handle something like that???
If I had ordered him to put me down, and the other staff hadn't been in the room to order him as well...I wonder how long the "game" would have gone on???
He has no idea I used to pound my siblings into the ground.
They knew one thing about my fighting style...
God help and pity the fool who takes her off her feet.
The plea "self defense" worked before...
I have no doubt it will work again.