In A State Of Fight

(My father had a simple rule for my sister and me about fighting at school: DON’T START IT! If we had to start a fight, then we would have five seconds to explain to him why we had to hit the other kid. If he agreed the kid needed to be hit, we would not be punished at home; the school could do what they liked but Daddy wouldn’t punish us. My father has been called to the office because my sister punched a boy in her class. He arrives at exactly the same time as the boy’s father, and they walk in together. Before anyone can say anything else, my sister, thinking her five seconds have already started, screams:)

Sister: “He called Mommy a [my father makes my sister promise to never repeat it and she never has]!”

(The boy’s father looks at the black eye my sister gave him and says:)

Boy’s Father: “I don’t care what the reason is; you never say that about a woman, ever again. Next time it may not end with just a black eye.” *turns to my father* “I don’t think there is any reason to go further, do you?”

Daddy: “I’d say it’s over. Honey, let’s go.”

Principal: “Wait. We still have to agree what punishment she is going to face.”

(Both fathers look at each other and say together:)

Both Fathers: “None!”

Principal: “But she—”

Boy’s Father: “Ma’am, this is Texas. This little lady just taught everyone watching the exact meaning of the phrase, ‘Them’s fighting words.’ Ain’t nothing to punish her for. Now her pa is gonna get her some ice cream, and you and I are gonna talk about what punishment my son is getting.”