Mike and I rake and re-rake the 12 x 12 patch of grass until we are both satisfied it is the softest surface possible for our wives to fight on, and just in time. The high-noon sun is blazing overhead, and the heat index is 108. It's time for the showdown that has been brewing for years.
Without a word, we nod to each other and retreat to our respective tents to zip open the door flaps and motion for our wives to come out. The women emerge from the tents wearing one-piece bathing suits. Their freshly painted fingers and toes glisten in the noon-day heat. They are already drenched in sweat from impatiently waiting in sauna like conditions.
Without hesitation, the two barefoot women step in the grassy arena and walk up on one another. Saying nothing, they explode into each other, fists and feet flying and connecting everywhere.
What happens next? Please post your ideas here, or e-mail me at
leonus469@yahoo.com.
Thank you.