Henry got in a bit of a fight last week with his best friend/nemesis Kinnon. It wasn't so much of a fight as a demonstration of Henry's wimpiness (this is written with love, I promise).
We were playing soccer in Kinnon's yard. Kinnon lost interest in the game after a few kicks; he was off in the far corner of the yard climbing a tree. Daniel (Kinnon's dad) and I took turns as goalie while Henry took shots.
I was in net when the fight broke out. Henry ran to mid field (yard) and performed the classic soccer blooper: he swung at the ball and missed, brought his foot back for a second pass and instead ended up standing on it. Gravity being what it is, Henry was on his butt pretty quick.
I have no idea how he moved so quickly, but Kinnon was there in a flash. In what can only be described as mid-eighties WWF technique, Kinnon dished out a perfect flying elbow drop to Henry's gut (he may have even tapped his elbow with his other hand before executing, I can't be sure).
Henry, stunned, rolled over to face his now prone (and grinning wildly) opponent. Henry peppered him with a series of sissy punches (the boy didn't even try to make fists), accenting each with the sound "Eeh! Eeh! Eeh!"
Daniel and I pulled them apart. We were laughing too hard at this point to dish out any serious punishment.
My son. The sissy puncher.