The sight was too much for Cynthia.  It was as if the school girl within her that had left long ago had come back up to the surface, and she fell to the floor beside her daughter.  It was a sight to behold, the entire family on the kitchen floor, rolling and writhing, only two of them were squeeling in laughter, while the other one was screaming in tortuous pain. 

 

As the laughter subsided, they looked over to Johnny and began hearing these weird sounds – he was dry heaving.  Only moments later, he had thrown up the contents of his lunch, that his dear mother had packed for him only that morning. 

 

“Oh my God,” said Chelsea, partly in disgust, but partly in awe at what she had done to her brother.  “I had no idea…”

 

“There are many things you have yet to learn,” said Cynthia, caressing her daughter’s face. “Both of you,” she said more sternly, turning to Bobby.  “This was only your introduction.  You both have lives ahead of you that will be full of ballbusting.  You will reach heights of pleasure, and pain,” again turning to Bobby, “that you had thought unattainable and could never even imagine.”

 

Looking around, Cynthia looked as though an idea had just come to her.  “You know what, let’s eat out dear. Now that you’ve been inaugurate into ballbusting, it’s important that we get you proper footwear.”

 

A light bulb turned on in Chelsea’s head, she hadn’t even thought about what she put on her foot to kick a boy with.  She looked down at her Mary Janes with a new found sense of appreciation. 

 

“Those are marvelous shoes, don’t you worry,” said Cynthia.  “It’s just that, well you’ll discover that footwear is to ballbusting as flavours are to sundaes.  They’re all delicious, but each can bring a different flavour, each enjoyable in its own way.”

 

Excitedly, the two females, mother and daughter, headed for the door, leaving their son and brother, respectively, to wallow in the torment of his male existence.