#2030 Wings Over The Mountains of Life
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Victory
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Muscles strained and veins popped as a determined frown spread
across my face.
I put all of my manly strength forth.
The thing held fast, but I was determined that I would not be
beaten.
Taking a deep breath, I lunged forward again, bending down and
putting all of my 185 pounds behind it anew.
I trembled.
It trembled.
These are the times that vex a man's soul.
Manhood is at stake.
To fail now is the ultimate insult against all that is
masculine.
Not me.
Not now.
I would not fail.
"Yield! Yield! Yield!" I secretly thought, hoping that my
mental shout would somehow affect things.
I was almost outdone.
Almost out of energy, I felt both fatigue and pain set in.
With one last effort, I summoned all within me, calling upon
every last muscle cell, every ounce of willpower, the inner
strength that has carried countless men through such ordeals.
For all mankind I let a silent cry escape my lips in this last
all or nothing last attempt.
I felt it give!
Ever so slight I felt its unyielding hold loosen. I felt it
open slightly and then I knew I had it. I knew I had won.
There comes a surge of energy with the knowledge that you will
not fail, that manhood will be preserved.
I had felt it give!
Spurred by the newfound confidence, I continued my relentless
push.
With a loud "POP" it gave up, surrendering to the greater force.
I felt a sole drop of sweat travel down my left cheek.
That's OK, I had stood the test, met the challenge, and passed.
Exhausted but valiant, I leaned back in satisfaction.
I looked at my wife.
She could see eons of primordial testosterone powered chest
thumping in my eyes.
She was proud of her man.
With a smug look of confidence, I raised my hand with the
evidence of my victory firmly encased within my grip.
She took the evidence of my triumph quietly acquiescing to the
greater strength.
I leaned back again and smugly pondered the accomplishment.
To my shock she said, "One more time."
My left eyebrow raised slightly as I saw what my wife brought from
behind her back.
I shuddered anew but concealed my anxiety with a masquerade of
manly confidence.
I wondered silently,
"Why in the world do they make baby food jars so hard to open?"
For all the men that have had to open baby food jars in front of
their wives.
You understand.
~A MountainWings Original~
This is one of those MountainWings that you need to read twice.
Thank you for inviting MountainWings in your mailbox.
See you tomorrow.
