Anyone who knows me well can attest to my non-violent nature. Last night that non-violent side of me disappeared after three glasses of wine and 1 1/2 hours of watching the movie Superbad.
And that something is misdirected violence.
While sitting on the couch I practiced balancing a tennis ball on my head with arms spread wide. This is not an easy task and one that I admit to be quite good at. Apparently watching me do this for 20 or so minutes was somewhat annoying to the boyfriend. To get that point across he took the ball from me and then threw it in my general direction.
The ball landed on the couch, which I was now standing in front of. In pure football tackle form (or at least what I would call tackle form) he started to race toward me. To keep him from grabbing the tennis ball and to keep him from tackling me, I put my hands out to stop him at his shoulders.
Instead I stopped him at his face.
With a fingernail I managed to slice the side of his forehead, even drawing blood. He claims I attacked him, but I claim bad aim and self defense. Though this morning upon seeing the swollen red bump on his face, I do feel a little bit like an abuser.
I blame Superbad. That movie’ll make anybody a little crazy. I don’t recommend it. For your boyfriend’s sake, don’t watch it.
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