On Why I May Or May Not Be A Jerky-Poo

Rhiannon’s family visited over the weekend. Sunday was nice. We had an opportunity to play a little three-on-three two-hand touch football, girls vs. boys. It was a friendly game. Friendly doesn’t mean I like losing.

Rhiannon tried to catch a pass in the end zone. I knocked the ball out of her hands.

In doing so, my knee met her calf.

Result:

A raised, bruised, spot on the back of her calf, about the size of (what a coincidence!) my kneecap.

I admit, perhaps I was a little overzealous in my defense of the endzone, but as they say in the Under Amour commercials, "We must protect this house!"

And hope you don't end up sleeping on the couch of the house in the process...