Handsome and I tend to rough house a bit. We do it all the time, and he's even more likely to start something than I am. Sometimes it gets a little out of hand (meaning that it sometimes doesn't stop, and we tend to do it in inappropriate places), but it's usually just plain fun. Sometimes, it's accidentally a little of both.
The other day we were walking through BJ's Wholesale Foods when he started. He was poking me in the back and dancing away. I turned sideways to him and got one hand ready. When he came in again I lashed out with my hand in a fake toward his face, but it was only a fake. When he flinched back and threw a hand up to block, he left his stomach wide open. I quickly flipped the hand down from the fake, slipping it in beneath his raised arm and poking him in the exposed belly.
Throwing his hand up as he did had thrown his balance off a bit and raised his center of gravity. My poke (solid, yes, but not actually damaging) was enough, combined with his flinch back, away from the poking finger, to send him stumbling backwards.
That's when it happened.
Handsome took a step back and his sneaker slipped in the polished floor. His foot slid back and he, fighting it the whole way, did a slow spiral to the floor. The fact that he fought it slowed the fall down greatly, and he fell and rolled in what looked like slow-motion.
It looked so much like the death-blow scene in so many bad karate movies, I burst out laughing. I'm not sure if he started before or after I did, but Handsome burst out laughing too.
My first thought was that looked so cool!
My second thought was God, I wish I got that on camera!
My third thought, as I looked around at the store security system, was Oh, snap! Maybe someone did!
My fourth thought was Oh well. If they did they can try to figure out how we did that slow-motion effect!
I helped the giggling boy to his feet and we continued our shopping trip. I kept an eye out, but no security guards accosted me, or even trailed us through the store. We got our things, poke-fought our way through check-out, and got out to the Jeep with no worries from the staff.
Makes me kind of glad I wasn't really blasting him off his feet. I'd have gotten away with it.
And what did I learn from this whole experience?
If you ever have the urge to beat your child in public, take a little trip to BJ's. They're not paying attention!
(Just kidding, Handsome. You know I love you.)
Talk to you later!