The time Josh punched me

Yes, it is time for another selection from Our Story. I'm not nearly disciplined enough to post them regularly, so you'll just have to settle for reading them at random intervals.

That first year of dating, we spent lots of time in Josh's rental house, snuggled up on the couch watching TV. Friends, usually. It was the last season and a big group of us would get together every Thursday night to watch. We did go on an Ed kick and threw in the occasional dose of 7th Heaven every once in awhile. Oh, and we watched lots and lots of sports.

Ah, the memories in that junky old rental house. Sitting on crappy, falling apart furniture in an ugly room. Using the downstairs bathroom, where you were never sure if you'd be able to get out. The knob turned, but only sometimes. In the winter, the temperature inside the living room hovered right around 57 degrees. Us non-residents brought our own blankets.

One evening I was sprawled out on Josh's couch, with my head on his lap, watching TV. I thought it would be fun to see just how ticklish he was, so I grabbed his side and gave it a couple pokes.

That is when he punched me. Clocked me right on the lip/chin. Smack.

I looked up at him in horror, only to see his own horrified face.

He didn't mean to punch me so hard. It was just a quick reflex. He was just trying to quickly pry my hands away from his side - and my face got in the way. Being the good, and repentant boyfriend that he was, he quickly ran to the freezer to get me a Popsicle.

It was sweet of him to try and repair the damage, but I still like to tease him about it.

The next installment? The time I didn't kiss back