On Monday, we took the kids at the vacation care centre to play putt putt golf at Dural. Which, by the way, is surrounded by expensive houses, expensive cars, run by lovely Irish people, and happens to be just far enough away from the vacation care centre for me to get motion sickness on the bus.

There are two brothers that go to the centre, who have serious anger management issues. Fighting, hitting, and trying to drown each other in the sandpit is a daily occurance in their lives. Needless to say, they started fueding by the 2nd hole. By the time we reached the 3rd hole, there was serious mouthing off, accompanied by the threat of physical violence. (Note: I didn't threaten violence. They did. I never threaten, I just act.)

The 4th hole came, and I remember turning just in time to see the older brother bearing down on the younger brother swinging his solid metal putter through the air, and directly down at the younger sibling. The little one has speed on his side, and dodged the putter, which snapped once it hit the ground. Yes. A putter was snapped when one child attempted to hit his younger brother.

Broken metal stick in one hand, and the metal head of the putter in the other, he looked like a spent force... horror on his face. But rage soon took over, and about 2 seconds later he hid the head of the putter in his pocket, and charged through the gardens after his younger brother whipping the metal stick back and forth through the air. Needless to say I busted him. I didn't actually break him. But once I stopped giggling at the whole thing, I sent him to play golf with a 50 year old woman.

I am reminded in some way of a time a couple of years ago at church. There was a preacher called Kevin 'Mad Dog' Mudford, who was staying at the church for a few weeks. (Great guy - prison to pulpit story). He began his sermon by playing the movtivational speech and music from the movie 'Braveheart'. He also decided to dress up as a scott, with some sword, a big wig, some footy shorts and some other props. He also carried his almost full sized trademark cross to the front of the stage, and knelt there, being inspired by the music, and acting the part of a warrior.

Now, me being the youth pastor at the time, I had encouraged our youth to come along that Sunday morning to hear him speak about his life of crime, drugs and jail, and his transformation. I had expected them to be inspired, motivated, and touched by his message of restoration. What I didn't expect, was a testicle.

Nope. Didn't expect a testicle to fall out of Mad Dogs short shorts. Definately not. Especially not out the front of a full congregation of church-goers on a Sunday morning. Especially not infront of a row of teenage girls from youth. Definately unexpected. I didn't expect him to just stay there either. Dressed as a scott, kneeling and praying underneath a cross, listening to braveheart music with one nut swinging in the breeze. Yup. That was a Sunday special that I'll never forget.

I'm not sure how that story actually relates to the 2 brothers fighting. Maybe it relates to seeing something really bad and nasty, but finding it really funny at the same time. Maybe its to do with the braveheart music I'm listening to on repeat. Maybe I just really wanted to tell the world.

Be safe. And don't wear short shorts.