Now that my husband, my son and myself are taking martial arts classes at least twice a week (and sometimes three or four), "family fight" has developed a whole new meaning.
Darling Man and I were in the kitchen preparing dinner when I reached for something and he blocked me. Then he turned to face me and threw a punch, which I blocked. Then he threw a bunch, and I blocked them all.
Z-boy walked in and became the cheering section. Darling man taunted me, "Come on, girlie, let's see what you've got!"
And I kicked him. And kicked him. He tried to block but just couldn't block them all. He's got the reach for punches, but I've got the speed for kicks.
Take that, big man!
Friday is sparring night. I went a couple of weeks ago and watched Darling Man. I want to spar this week!!!! Hubby bought me some gloves for working on the bag, but I'd love to use them on a real person. What does that say about ME?????