saturday afternoon was great, because we found ourselves in the field across the street from our apartment, surrounded by at least ten children. it was a great chance to throw around the football, play with the remote control car, and shoot some hoops.

i had a good toss with a couple of kids: dandre and anthony. i shot a bullet (exageration?) to dandre, and anthony jumped up and intercepted the ball. dandre, indignant at the fact that anthony took the ball, grabbed him by the shirt and spun him to the ground till he was on his knees. when he landed, he sat still for a couple of seconds, and then crumpled while letting out the fakest moan that was even discernable by keanu reeves (i know kung-fu). i walked over, and nudged him with my foot.

"anthony, are you okay?"

"ggggrrrroaaaannnn... my stomach! my stomach!" he answered. i looked up at meredith and smiled, both of us knowing that his stomach had not even been touched.

"oh no!" i cried. "he's mortally wounded! quick! get him to the operating table!"

i then picked him up and carried him to a nearby chess-table, and lay him atop it.

"tell me son, where does it hurt?" i urged him to join the fun. anthony groaned in unconvincing agony again, but there was a definite smile on his face, and one of his eyes peaked open. i proceeded to poke him in the stomach, checking for "pain". his moans were interrupted by fits of laughter, until finally, he decided to cough, sputter, and "give up the spirit".

"NO!!!" i cried, as meredith made the most convincing flat-line "eeeeeeee" that i have ever heard.

i pounded the table with each word, trying not to laugh.

"it. never. gets. any. easier!" he lay still.

after telling him to get up a couple of times, anthony finally hopped up, to which i excitedly shouted, "he's alive!" and jumped off the table and wrapped his arms around me.

in this moment, i felt an immense joy that all was right, that G-d had somehow used me, a bitter and often anti-child kind of guy, to bring joy to this young boy.

and then his teeth sunk into my jugular.

although the marks have faded, i still feel the heat of anthony's teeth on my throat.

"From now on let no one cause trouble for me, for I bear on my body the brand-marks of Jesus."- paul the apostle