A couple more shots of our bruiser…we thought the tattoos made him look a little tougher (instead of just a skinny little guy who got beat up!). With two little brothers I’m sure it won’t be his last. The boxing gloves are being put away for a LONG time, our guys just can’t seem to bop eachother with them.

Makes me think of when I was little and my brother and I had “B.B.R.F” in our living room. In case you aren’t familiar with B.B.R.F.s, it stands for Big Bad wRestling Fights (we couldn’t spell). My parents would always say that someone was going to get hurt and they were usually right. I was 4 years younger but scrappy and could hold my own. I do remember a time, though, when they had banned the B.B.R.F.s and my brother and I left the room very sad….then Todd said “but they didn’t ban A.D.B.B.R.F.s” and I said “A.D.B.B.R.F.?” and he said, “oh yeah, After Dinner Big Bad wRestling Fights!” and it was on. We got caught, though and when they came in the room I did the only thing I could…I played the victim role and started crying. My mom scooped me up and sent Todd upstairs to his room. He was so mad, knowing that I was faking, and trying to plead his case. My mom was hugging me and couldn’t see my face and when Todd looked back I smiled and stuck my tongue out at him. CLASSIC little sister, huh?

Another thing I remember is that our parents bought us some Bop n Sock ‘Em boxing gloves, that were like beach balls that you put your hands into. The theory behind this one was that we would be hitting eachother and it wouldn’t hurt. Well, we were too smart for that, too, and we would deflate them just enough to look like they were full of air, but that our fists could still impact the other person. Sorry ’bout that mom and dad, 1 point for the kids!