MADDOGS

Robin's car (Jude's #5 baby-not) after it did a somersault. Thankfully Robin, who was extremely shaken up, had only bruises and aches. After she flipped rear-end over the top, some construction men who were working across the street came to her aid and got her out of the car--she was hanging upside down by the seatbelt. The car was totaled! Smashed roof and windows! Broken seats! Leaking gas! Towed to Junk Yard Heaven.

NOTE FROM JUDE: Somehow I managed to put a huge space between the title & the post. I am trying to correct this, but it seems to be like the old dog that can't learn a new trick. Someone PLEASE give me a MADDOG kick in the butt! I need it! I NEED IT! I NEED IT!

Note: The huge, empty space disappeared on it's own, no thanks to Jude.

Post by Jude

Saturday was Benjamin’s b-day = 29 (I did the math)
It took me a couple of days to decide on which “it's a mother’s right” story to tell in the hopes of causing some embarrassment, but I did come up with one.

Benjamin was a breast-man from the second he was born. As he’d nurse from one breast, he’d play with the nipple of the other breast, and visa-versa. Whenever any woman held him or picked him up, his hands immediately went to her breasts. Many times the woman of his attention let out a loud squeal.

This breast touching, although diminishing over the years, went on until he started school. I guess it’s a social statement to say, school has a way of imposing its rules on everyone and driving the uniqueness of a student’s personality underground (such topics are grist for a different post).

So here he is, 5 years old and not actively touching breasts anymore, but the boy does have eyes. He has probably labeled, categorized, and filed the statistics in his mind of every breast that has ever entered his sight. The nice thing is, he likes them all.

When Robin (then 16) went on her first date—an afternoon movie—Benjamin (then 25 with bouncer experience) and I were working on my car engine. When I went inside to get Robin, Benjamin (unbeknownst to me) gave Robin’s date the standard “she’s my sister” spiel.

Wielding a wrench and waving it about for emphasis, Ben begins his speech. “I’ll hurt you, if you touch my sister’s breasts. Or even think about touching them. Do you understand?”

Boyfriend, turning red and wishing he were anywhere but here replies, “Yes, sir.”

“I don’t even want you looking at them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll know if you do.”

Robin walks out of the house with me following.

The boyfriend looks at the ground, at the eaves of the house, at the crow sitting on the TV antenna, at the clouds floating by.

Robin says, “Are you ready to go?”

Boyfriend focuses at an undesignated spot several feet above her head, then stammers, “Y-yes.”

“Have fun,” Jude says.

“We will.” Robin smiles at the boyfriend, but he doesn’t notice because he’s looking across the street at the neighbor’s dog.

The boyfriend somehow manages to open the car door for her, as he studies the UPS truck driving by. Then he gets behind the wheel and pulls a left-handed U, so he doesn’t have to look past Robin for an oncoming car.

Although the date was a success, the boyfriend never asked Robin out again, but the odds are he’ll NEVER forget the date.

Well Benjamin, Happy Birthday to you!