February 24, 2001

I've just collapsed a lung inflating a punching bag for Tom.  It's one of those bobbling ones -- Bugs Bunny on one side and Taz on the other -- with sand in the bottom, so it will bounce back up after it gets a good whack.  I plug up the vent, set the bag on the floor, and call for his attention.

Tom looks up from a tangle of surplus cords that he's taken to playing with and sees the bag.  He instantly jumps to his feet and barrels over, with what I can only assume is crazed bloodlust in his eyes and a fearsome "Eeeee!" tearing loose from his throat.  As he approaches, he swings both arms back, brings them forward...  And gives the bag a hug.

"No, no, Tom," I say.  "Punching.  You punch--  Oh, all right."

 



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