Woo doggie, I dated a prior Mormon girl sometime back when, let me tell ya. She had been out of the church maybe 3 years by the time we met. Naive as the day is long, real-world stupid as it were. Pretty as hell, radiant smile, but frustrating to talk anything social with, as her viewpoints were more narrow than a walking bridge. My buddy Albert "Jim" Hitchens said that a fella like me had no business with a pretty girl like her, but he didn't know my online dating lines were smoother than a Boyz II Men lullaby. Where was I? Dumb, that's right. Well she tried, bless her heart, but she was better seen and not heard. Allowed her son to hit people with impunity stating that he was just "in a phase". I had heard of the terrible 2's but I hadn't ever heard of the Rocky phase, but I digress.

Now, I don't profess to know nothing about child rearing, as I have none, but I think early lessons about not hitting people are in the front of the book, and I figured she could read that much. So I did what any frustrated man would do after being beaten like pinata by a wreck-loose yard ape, I kicked the soccer ball really hard at his face and knocked him clean into the decorative wishing well, ass over teakettle. Spun him like a fruit roll up.

Now what you don't know is that his mother had just put up that well for Easter earlier in the morning. Hit me on the lords day? Some things just aren't forgiven. Anyhoo, I reckon his first wish was that he wished he didn't cross paths with a grown man in the backyard moments prior. Oh, and his mothers fantasy was an interracial gangbang, so I imagine that's what she wished for that Sunday, but I aint one to presume.