Tonight I walked into the lounge room and found him on all fours, chasing after Miss5 and, when he caught up with her, ramming his head at her bottom.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked him.
"I'm headbutting my sister," he said matter-of-factly. I guess he's into interpretive fighting.
I've always maintained I'm a lover not a fighter, although I said this to Tracey back when we were dating and she asked me if I had a back up plan.
When Master20 and Miss17 were much younger I started taking them to Tae Kwon Do during the week. I figured it would be good for them to learn discipline and self defense. My big boy was into Power Rangers at the time and was always disappointed at the end of a lesson when they didn't give him a zord.
Before too long Tracey and I started joining in as well. Tracey was really good at it. I sucked, black hole style.
In my defense, though, it was difficult to fully concentrate on the routine when there weren't many adults in the class so I often sparred with kids. My punches went well over their heads but their punches, which as instructed they mostly managed to pull up short of the mark, were headed squarely for my groin.
It's not that I'm competitive or anything, but when Tracey managed to triple grade while I only doubled at our first grading I hung up my yellow belt (which basically means I've learned how to bow) and took up a far less confrontational form of self defense called doing whatever the hell my wife says.
Besides I figure if some idiot shapes up to me in a car park I'll tell him, "I'm not your problem mate. My wife's a higher belt than me."
As for Master7 and his unique fighting style, well I can't wait to see his idea of king hitting someone - it'll probably involve his sister's tiara.
Maybe I should get him to watch this :)