How I Met Norma

Hello Jenna. Thank you for sitting in on this lovely blog post.

I draw your attention to a not so interesting story that involves a stranger whose name I have forgotten, Alona honey, my older brother who is often called my twin and honorary Erin honey. T’was a beaming day in the Tuesday life of three DCBRPs when the brother came over for the weekly basketball game. I would like to preface this story with a few facts. I have poor peripheral vision, the lungs of an 80 year old woman named Norma and no relevant experience in basketball. However, because I am me and have never allowed these facts interfere with my daily life I decided to play basketball anyway. This may have been the worst decision I made that week. I was fouled…no I was violently pushed to the ground and elbowed in the face multiple times. One minute I was standing and the next my stomach was parallel with the ground. I also have two cuts on my calf from this warlike encounter. In short, I have cancelled our basketball games and traded them in for something a little more tame like crocheting winter hats. Okay we don’t crochet hats but we do play Zombies on the Xbox.

But you are probably wondering, “Dominique why is this relevant? There is always something relevant-ish in your blog posts?” Well well well (stalls to find something inspirational to appease the readers)…this post proves that even the people closest to you can hurt you. Even though it may be an unintentional shoulder to the face this does not make the blow any less painful. If you are like me and have terrible vision you won’t see it coming but don’t worry we should not be trained in the art of expecting pain from the people who bandage us up. Maybe you have 20/20 vision and always see the blow coming and manage to duck before these people cause you pain. Either way, I suggest before your reflexes kick in to stoop down to their level and pull that fist back ensuring maximum pain just think. No one is perfect so sometimes in heated games of basketball we charge our little sisters with all our weight. It does not make us bad it only means we messed up. It should not make us targets for violence but rather targets for forgiveness. After all forgiveness is for us not for the other person. Sure, I was sore that entire week and looked like Norma gave me her back as well but I was still me. I didn’t lose my character just because someone else accidentally dropped theirs.