The Lawsons did Dallas!

Seriously people, don't try this
sha-diz-nit at home!
March 12, 2007

Welp, I came home to a very, very bored husband. He was lying on the couch flipping back and forth between Desperate Housewives and a televangelist. This sort of behavior is generally indicative of a serious situation. Jared looked up at me, let out a really desperate sigh and said, "Amy...I'm just so bored." I could tell he was, and I wanted to help.

I decided that we'd put James to bed and during teeth brushing, book reading, face washing, and pajama on-putting I could brainstorm. So all through the nigh-night routine I was trying to come up with a comprehensive list of boredom busters for married couples. I was thinking "Board games? No....Closet cleaning? Heck no....Sex? Ha!...Dog brushing? Too messy....High kick contest? Oh yeah! OH YEAH!"

So after James was in his crib, we walked into our room and I shared my gem-of-an-idea with Jared. I tried to stay cool and curb my enthusiasm, as we'd never held this particular type of contest in our household before. I casually said, "Hey, what about a high kick contest?" Jared's like, "Cool." and he offered up the first high kick. I snarfed a little bit at his measely effort and said "that's all you've got?" And the next thing you know, I'd outdone him.

The kicks went back and forth a couple of times and we were getting more and more serious with each swing of the leg. After about three rounds we started in with the big challenges. Jared held his hand at about belly button level and was like "Yo, you totally can't kick my hand." [side note: we suck at kicking]. So I was like, "Oh, just watch me!" And I kicked his stinking hand with no problem-o. He did the belly button level kick, too so we moved right on to the chest level kick. Surprisingly, with lots of determination and grunting, we both beat this level on our first tries.

Suddenly, we had reached the pinnacle of the competition...the chin level kick. I tried first. I backed up against our closet door, took two running leaps, and went for it. The fact that I didn't kick my husband's hand on the first try only fired me up more. Before both feet were even back on the ground I was already pleading my case for a second chance. Jared agreed, so I go went for it again, only with a slightly different strategy. This time I stretched out the old hamstrings, opened up the closet door to lengthen my runway, took three running bounds, and strived for excellence with a seriously intense "heeeeeee-ya!"

This is when it happened folks. Right in the middle of my "ya," I knew I had entered the danger zone. My kicking leg went so high that it pulled my standing leg right out from under me. Suddenly my life was in slow motion and I was air born! It was just like I was doing the back float in a pool, except there was no water under me, I was falling really fast, and it wasn't nearly as relaxing. My eyes were wide, my expression was a terrified one, and my husband's jaw was just hanging. As I plummeted toward the floor my life was not only in slow motion, I'm pretty sure that every thing looked like cartoons too. And then it happened......THWAP! 146 pounds of Amy met up with one hard-assed floor.

There couldn't have been more than 1/8th of a second of shocked silence. I broke it by letting out a little whimper. As soon as I expressed this sign of life, Jared let out the most roaring, entertained laughter that I've ever heard. While I cried/laughed/struggled for breath, Jared told me that he was laughing so hard it hurt. I was like "Don't talk to me about pain, butt head!" Well, I only thought that....the wind was knocked out of me a little, so I couldn't quite say it out loud. But when I was finally able to muster up some speech I said, "I think I'm in shock...."

So I've recovered. I'm okay. But please people, do not try the high kick contest at home. It's just too risky.