Before I married my wife, we were in a long-distance relationship, and I was taking her to my mother’s house. When I parked on the side of the house, my quiet, mild, Canadian girlfriend heard “You think you’re the tough guy! I’ll show you the tough guy!” (sound of fist hitting a hard surface). “Oh yeah? How about That?!” (Boom!), continuing in that vein.
She was sure that the loud, angry men inside would surely come to blows.
“Oh, that’s just my brother Johnny, Uncle James, and Cousin Tommy. They’re playing Pinochle.”
She married me anyway.
Hahahahahaha!!! That’s a great story...:)
I was a late comer to hockey, moving to New England when I was 15, couldn’t skate and had never even seen a hockey stick before...the guys I ended up hanging around with were fanatics, as were their parents.
His mother was one of the sweetest, quietest women...she had to be in her fifties at the time, wearing a dress in the house, wearing her cats-eye glasses
We used to congregate, and one night watching a Bruins-Canadiens game, Stan Terry O’Reilly was zeroing in on a guy against the boards, and his mother edged to the end of her chair and exclaimed “Kill him!”
I nearly spit my food out! That sweet, meek lady!