Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Beware the purple nurple

When was the last time life reached out and twisted your nipples so hard you felt as if your toe nails were going to pop off?

You know the twist I am talking about right? The one where your friend grabs on and then summons up god-like amounts of torque and twist with everything that is holy in the world. It's never happened to me, thankfully.

It happened to my brother-in-law once. True story.

See, he and his son were horsing around when his son decided to latch on and squeeze. Apparently he did it in such a way that he was able to suspend his body from his father's nipples.

Now you can just imagine what might have happened next. Tucker, my poor brother-in-law, screamed like a two year old getting a shot in the arm. He pleaded with his son to let go, he begged, he attempted to bribe, he cried.

Finally, after prying the vise-like grip from his now purple nipples, Tucker exploded in a bout of expletives. He rub himself tenderly as the tears flowed freely down his face.

For several days his chest was swollen and purple. Tucker, a thin man by any standard, was now the envy of every teenage girl with his b-cup sized chest.

Tucker has never forgotten the pain inflicted on him by his son. Sometimes, when Dylan gets that look in his eye, Tucker instinctively reaches for his chest and covers his nipples with a protective grip.

I never got to witness these events, but the tale lives on in infamy as it grows wilder and wilder with each telling. While I know there is truth in it, I have no clue how much. Either way, I have seen Tucker absent mildly rubbing his chest where once his three-year-old son hung.

I remember a case of another nasty purple nurple.

While practicing Judo throws with my Kung fu instructor - we had both attended a seminar on sweeps and throws - I was struggling to get the hip throw just right. After several failed attempts, Si Fu yelled at me to execute the throw.

I did. And, I did it well.

I reached out, grabbed his lapel and his waist, slammed my hip into him and threw him. His his body flew over mine as he came down hard on his back. His breath shot from his lungs yet he was still able to let out a blood curdling scream.

Terrified I had hurt him I began asking if he was ok. The instructor of the seminar came quickly to us and asked what had happened.

With tears in his eyes and painful sobs choking in his throat, he explained that I had grabbed his nipple as I began the throw and used it to propel his body over mine and on to the mat.

To make matters worse, as he crashed onto the mat his body twisted adding torque to his already pinched nipple.

Later he showed my the purple bruise I had left. I apologized profusely between fits of laughter and mountains of push-ups.

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