My Friday Memory (yeah, I know what day it is!)

My Uncle Don was at Dad's today.  We went to visit, but to be honest, we were listening to the BS that spews when those guys get together.  It's not all BS, but it's tough to tell where the reality stops and the fabrication starts.  It's great.  I always laugh until my sides ache.  There are corny jokes, inappropriate comments, and tall tales that seem almost real, if you try.  These are kids who had a terrible childhood, but have wonderful memories, nonetheless.  They really love each other.  And they all love ME!  (yeah, it's all about me.)

Dad's from a pretty big family.  They all had boys....except for Dad.  He had a boy, following tradition, then had me.  For all practical purposes, I was a boy for many years.  I could ride my bike, wrestle, spit and run...right along with the boys.  I liked army men and Hot Wheels, and didn't care much for Barbies.  I had a permanent scab on both knees, and could back a trailer with ease.  I fit right in.

Then, I started getting older.  I was turning into a girl, whether I liked it or not.  There were a lot of cousins to play with, but Uncle Don's kids were my favorites.  We would play hard and break all the rules, until we all got in trouble together.  Never a spanking we didn't deserve, either.  In fact, we deserved more than we got.  We jumped on beds and tore things up and got real rowdy.  We'd get in trouble, then count the days until we could get together and do it all again.

One time (yeah, I'm finally getting to the memory) we were in a back yard.  I think it was Uncle Warren's, but it may have been Uncle Don's.  It's funny how the little details escape me sometimes.  My cousin Mike, who I didn't see as frequently as the others, got rough.  He and I were alone in the back yard, and he tackled me.  Again, I don't know details, but the next thing I know...IT happened.

Scott, Don's oldest son and my favorite cousin, came barreling out the back door and TOOK.HIM.DOWN.  He had this look on his face.  I thought he was going to kill Mike.  He said, through clinched teeth, "If you ever TOUCH her again, I'll kill you, you sonofabitch."  I just sat there on the ground, blinking.

I still don't know if it was warranted or not, but I knew one thing.  There is an army of men who would jump to my aid in a moment's notice.  That army has only grown over the years.  It now includes my husband, my son, my ex-husband, my husband's best friend, my aunt's husband, a couple of guys from work, a neighbor or two, and the list goes on.

Now you know why I feel so safe.  Now you know why I'm cocky.  Now you know why I have confidence.  The men in my life defend women.  Thanks, Scott.  Thanks for starting my army.  My army of protectors.