Everybody Was Kenpo Fighting

Due to an unexpected turn of events, Micah opted out of football, so we took the plunge into Karate.

For almost two weeks, these boys fought and worked out and grappled in their gym shorts only dreaming of the day when they would have their own Gi to fight in.

If you've met my sons you know that they don't like to exercise the full range of their wardrobe at any time. They would be content to own two pair of shorts and two shirts and rotate between the two outfits every few days. You can imagine my surprise when they asked if they could sleep in, play in, and run around in their new get-ups.

I sternly impressed into their minds that these clothes are sacred, like most other things involved in karate. They could only wear them for karate-related events. They wear them with pride and fight hard and fight well.

The first time I watched them during a class, I got goosebumps. This is something I cannot explain and do not fully understand about myself. I love fighting. I don't like no-holds-barred brawling, but in a controlled environment, there's just something about it that revs my engine. It's good that I can't be there every night to watch because after each class I try to reason a way to get myself into a class... Maybe I should join a book club.