I Guess Not
I was feeling pretty good after tonight's Kung Fu workout, sparred with Kevin, my black belt buddy, learned to deflect punches, block side kicks, and stab an assailant with his own damn knife!
"What about a gun?" my wife asks.
"Well, you can't defend against a gun. Do what you're told and hope to get out of it unscathed."
She frowns. I've disappointed her with my defensive abilities. "OK and as far as a knife goes, what would you do if we were in a dark alley and some big guy came at us with a knife?"
She comes at me with a pretend knife, and I twist her arm (gently) this way and that, slashing her own pretty white neck with her own pretend knife.
"See, one smooth, slick movement and you're done for." I'm feeling pretty good about what I've learned, but once again she's unimpressed.
She laughs and says, "So that big guy in the dark alley, you really don't expect to scare him away do you?" And sashays out of the room.
No, no I guess not.
Michael Estabrook has published chapbooks and appeared in various magazines through the years, but he is still searching for that perfect poem. Right now he is looking for it in his wife and says if it's anywhere, that's where it will be.
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