Busted up my right hand in a bar fight. Well, not really.
Santa brought Levi a heavy Everlast bag. Levi has been taking karate for a few years, and the bag is to help him train. I helped Santa unload the 70-pound thing into our carport.
Contrary to reporting by certain news organizations, Santa drives a truck, wears a FedEx uniform, and was putting in a 15-hour day.
Christmas night, I lag-bolted the mount for the bag onto a floor joist in the basement. Levi and I wrestled the bag up onto a barstool. There is still about a 2-foot difference between the chains on the bag and the mount. I cant lift up the bag and hook it to the mount by myself, so we start shoving couch pillows under the bag on top of the stool to raise the height.
After three or four attempts, Jenifer comes to investigate what all the yelling is about and helps us hook the chains into the mount. By this point, I am a little ticked off and haul off and punch the 70-pound bag.
Owww! It does not give and my right hand sorta crumples. Jenifer and Levi bust out laughing, and Levi holds up a pair of gloves and says, Thats why it came with a pair of these.
I go upstairs to find a wrist brace and eat some ibuprofen. I hear a strange noise in the living room, like the gates of hell are creaking open. Ellie and Levi are swinging, punching and kicking the bag, which I realize I mounted to a floor joist directly under the living room.
Dean Mullis writes from Laughing Owl Farm in Richfield; firstname.lastname@example.org.
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