[Photo:Daley Hake] I’m a hugger. I like to give hugs. I admit it. But you know what I like to do even more? I like to hug people who don’t like to give hugs. Oh man. Those are the best. They resist your squeeze with a pressure that could crush a small canine. All the while smiling and hoping to God that you don’t notice.

Sundays are a great day for me to feed my sick addiction. When we hit the last chord of the set I literally set my guitar down and SPRINT out the side doors of the gymnasium while trying and catch the hundreds of people spilling out of the front doors. I am mostly greeted with this statement…”Woah. How’d you get back here so fast?” To which I normally respond …”I have a secret tunnel!!!. Ha ha ha”. And now that I have revisited that statement, I probably will not say it anymore. Not so funny. I’m such a tool. Anyways. Hugging.

I try and hug everyone. I can see people shifting out the other door in order to avoid any sort of physical touch I might attack them with. But I normally pivot on my inside heel and catch them on the other side. Suckers.

So this past Sunday I was huggin’ a fellow male hug resister and after our mutual triple pat, (Pat one – “I’m”)(Pat two – “Not”)(Pat three – “Gay”) he asked me how Losiah was doing. I answered with a resiliant “great” and went on to express my infatuation with my kids. How I can not wait to watch them grow. He responded with his take on how horrible it is going to be and how it only gets worse. How my life is about to become a living hell and he will pray for me.


So this all happened within 10 seconds of the initial hug. My hopes and dreams for my daughters and son had been slashed. I wondered what happened to this guy? This was so not the attitude of a hugger. And I quickly banished his opinion as being one that had been formed by a man who had not been hugged during his daughters teen age years.

Do I have that to look forward to? Hell? Is it just inevitable? Is it coming whether I like it or not? Or is there any hope? I believe there is.
My hugs with my daughters may turn from reciprocal displays of affection to my hanging on to them for dear life. That I can see. But to toss in the towel to any form of amazing community just because they will grow some lady humps and strap on bras, nope.

So go hug a dad whose kids have lady humps.
And tell them just to keep them away from 14 year olds named Carlos.
‘Cause Lord knows, that is gonna be THE rule.


Entire Series Here

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