Tonight, over a "dinner" of KD and hot dogs the conversation was inconsequential, silly, cabinfever-induced nothingness.
Suddenly, without any clear provocation, our thirteen year old, with a grin on his face, leaped from his seat, lunged across the table, and pounded his big brother in the arm. *WHAM* None of the males in the house seemed to think there was anything amiss as they righted wobbling condiments and steadied drinking glasses.
Absentmindedly re-centering the table, I gave my son a look of shock and questioning rebuke.
"Oh," he said offhandedly
'Oh'?! I silently reprimanded, You just pounded your bro at the dinner table! For no apparent reason?!" My look was meant to convey some form of motherly direction.
"Oh. Uhh. Excuse my reach."