11/29/2019 - Confession(s) of a Rebel

0300 hrs - the day after Thanksgiving. The bones in my calves feel like that jerk that shakes your hand and grinds your bones together, yeah, that’s a good analogy.

Now the confession...

I’ve never breathed this to anyone so keep it on the dl, or qt for you old folks. I grew up in church and attended a small, country church. We had a string bean of a preacher that had teeth that would fit in at  the Kentucky Derby. He never went in a bar because he didn’t want to hear, “Why the long face?”  (Come on! That’s funny!) Anyway...when he greeted me at the door on the way out, would grind my hand bones. I was a smart mouth brat in my youth but I let this slide for several Sundays. One Sunday I felt pretty bratty that I stepped on his boat of a foot, leaned in and said, “If you crush my hand again you’ll see how solid my left hook is!” I could hardly get out the door before I busted out laughing. If my parents had known this I still wouldn’t be able to sit down. Even though I was full of bluff, he never called my hand...or crushed it.

Whew! That did feel good, and good for another chuckle.

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