Vince and I hadn’t been married long. Chad was 9 and I’ve always said that if Vince and brought a child into the marriage that acted like Chad did, I doubt we’d still be married.
One day Chad came running into the house, almost hyperventilating. He said “Vince is trying to kill me. He’s going to hit me with a stick!” I said “WHAT?” I was a bit of an overprotective mom and I went marching outside . . “Were you trying to hit him?”
The rest of the story . .
Our garage had so much “stuff” in it. Vince was out there doing something. Chad was right under his feet bouncing some kind of bouncy rubber ball and it went behind some of the stuff. Chad couldn’t find it. He grabbed a stick and kept hitting everything in the garage. Vince asked him to stop and Chad kept doing it. Finally Vince said “CHAD! I’ve asked you to stop hitting things with that stick!” Chad, continuing to hit things, said “I can’t find my ball. I remember what it sounded like when it hit something and I’m hitting things because when I hear the sound again, I’ll find my ball!” Vince picked up a broom and jokingly (according to Vince) said “Would you like for me to hit you with this broom and see what you sound like?”
Chad had made it sound like Vince was chasing him, threatening to beat him with a stick. I suggested that Vince be a little nicer in the way he talked to Chad. I could just hear Chad’s dad hearing Chad’s version of that story and me being in court.
When I saw Vince chasing the chicken, I immediately thought of that story from 20+ years ago. I could just hear that chicken telling me “He’s trying to kill me!”