Tonight was Kung Fu fighting class. Sensei promised us some fun. (Of course he always says that, but his idea of “fun” is sometimes a bit, shall we say, off?) When he told us to pull out the puzzle mats I knew we were in for it.
I'm short. I'm round. Sometimes that works to my advantage, most of the time it doesn't. Tonight we played king of the mat. First off, why would I want to be king of anything? Princess maybe. Queen certainly. Your Majesty works as well. But king? No thanks. However, in the spirit of the game I played along. Who am I to ruin the fun by pointing out that the girls outnumber the boys in class more than 2 to 1?
The small people I can usually toss off the mat pretty easy. Unless they're like Tasmanian devils, twirling around like mad, hopping just out of reach. Either that or they get behind me and start gnawing on my shoulder, which tends to tickle. Really though, it's the big people I worry about. They just come forward with their arms out like zombies and if they catch me, I'm going off the mat. I try to dodge to the side, but I think something in my jump-to-the-side brain is detached.
Tonight I did okay. I don't remember how many I lost and how many I won. I do have quite a few rug burns, bruises and some very sore knees to show for my troubles. One lady and I were having a great match, until she rolled, I followed and I think I inadvertently either kneed or elbowed her in the ribs. She won the round (my head was off the mat) but I believe I won the battle. Glad Kung Fu fighting class is among friends. (Sorry about the ribs!)