Wrexie VS Flameboy

Flameboy.

It didn't go over so well...

read on:

I was living in Texas at the time… about 20 minutes north of Galveston Island.  It was Spring Break.  I worked for the school, so my son and I had a week off.  

A good mil-support friend asked if I’d like to come down to a beach house her family had rented for the week.  She knew I was missing my family… especially a brother I had lost to a motorcycle accident…. we had been very close.

So I made plans to hang out with them now and again at the beach house over break.  She had been working over her favorite mil-support troop, encouraging him to spend some time with the whole fam-damily. (They have 4 trolls kids).  

I knew of America’s finest from boxes we’d mailed to the dark places of the world where he was slaying dragons and thwarting villains; boxes of Super-hero sheets and hi-tech toys like squirt guns and random crazy stuff …anything we found hilarious at the moment to go alongside the usual necessities of tooth paste and beef jerky.  Mind you, he never asked for anything… but that’s beside the point.

Having had a few sibling-type encounters with Burkis Khan Burke, I questioned if it was a good idea to put us on the same island together.  I affectionately called him “little-bro” since we engaged in conflict similar to how my brother and I had. 

 Ahhh… brotherly love.

Upon arrival, I brought him a peace offering (and well deserved) pack of icy cold Mexican beer in glass bottles. (…and of course filled my trunk with airsoft assault weapons, just in case ;)

He saw my loaded trunk and must have thought twice of my sisterly love.  He took a well-trained double-take before noticing the orange tips.  (Score one for me….)

We had some good fun with the airsoft… obliterating Man-of-War jellyfish.  (They were the enemy and included the word war, so we were on it).   My son enjoyed annihilating them with a real warrior.  Great fun, ‘twas.

Then there was the ninja play on the beach which I wisely excused myself from.  (I hid in the house)…but only to come up with a defensive plan that included icy water…men should never underestimate the workings of a woman’s mindset in survival mode)  He had those kids traumatized with delight throwing them around in the surf like rag dolls.   Priceless.   (No limbs were lost at sea…but ice water was at the ready for defensive tactics)

Down time consisted of a healthy dose of arguing debating and of course consuming large quantities of brownies (with pink frosting) and Mexican beer.

What was the topic of argument debate you ask?  (Think siblings here and the picture becomes clearer…) 

 A word. 

A simple little word.

One

I … uh …

...just mentioned.  

In complete innocence, I tell you!  Complete! and don’t let him tell you otherwise.(Also keep in mind A1S had a new laptop he just purchased sitting in front of him.) 

And in MY defense:  my oldest son was a skater; he loved skateboarding and all the gear and crazyarse stuff that went with it.  One of his favorites was World Industry’s Wet Willy & Flameboy.   One was a drip of water… the other a fireball.  The fireball seemed complimentary from where I stood.   ...just sayin'.

I called America’s First Sarg a Flameboy.   You know, as in…. “Knock it off you dern fireball wisecracker ninja.”   

Yes.  I did.  I said it.  …and yes he looked at me with squinted zombie-slayer eyes.

I leave the room for a moment to let his eyes return to a normalish glow.  (but only because I just happened to have to hide in visit the ladies room) 

Only to come right back to a glowing keyboard and:

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE URBAN DICTIONARY DEFINITION OF FLAMEBOY IS YOUNG LADY?

Uh oh.  (I had no idea… other that it must be reallllllly bad)

I offer him a pink iced brownie (laughing, because that's what I do when these things happen) ….but he’s not hungry for pink brownies…. he had his dragon slaying face on…I believe this to be one of the rare times when brownies do not appeal to America’s 1^st Sergeant.)

Did I say, Uh oh?

Oops……

I check all exits. 

Where the heck is everyone?   Where's my airsoft arsenal?

This is where Betty and I can relate.  She wasn’t afraid of Col Chesty Puller.   I had the exact same thought at this moment.  ““Oh, everyone was so afraid of him, but I wasn’t. I figured that I wasn’t in the Marines, so what could he do to me?”   and I started laughing (while thinking Burke will never let me live this down, but none the less laughing) 

Our host was drawn into the conversation and questioned my sanity.   You should have seen the “are you kidding me? look .  Well, …it was nice knowin' ya Wrexie”.

Yeah… well.  I was innocent and dragon slayers NEVER hurt innocent maidens.  Never.  It breaks code.  (at least that’s what I told myself.)

Yes, there IS evidence.  …the picture above of him about to ninja-chop me to pieces.  

Well… we apparently sibling-bonded in our heated debate because we had some fun with visitors shortly after that (poor visitors, their sense of humor was lacking) And actually agreed on a family flick:  Princess Bride.   Classic.  Who can argue that?

Nothing like some good R & R with the “family”, eh?

I’m pretty sure he forgave me for the Flameboy incident. (guess we’re all about to find out…)  But I think it’s been in the archives long enough now that it is safe to talk about again.  If I do turn up missing, you’ll find me on a deserted isle without dessert (brownies) or airsoft weapons...

Back to the scorekeeping:  He has a few on me, I must admit.  (which he has long forgotten I hope…)  As far as friends go though, he never failed me when I needed his advice or help on something important.   It’s true.  And for those sacred times, ice picks are not even mentioned.

So there you have it.