Nathan came to me with those plastic bags full of air that come in packages now up his shirt, and said:
Punch me. But not as hard as you can.
He was remembering a year or two ago, when he came to me wearing a shield that was really a cardboard box that pinioned his arms down, and asked me to punch him as hard as I could. And I didn't do that, but I didn't really softball it, so when I punched him, and his arms were bound so he couldn't right himself, he fell over, bouncing off the chair as he traveled downward.
It was a great laugh, then and now.
For both of us.
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