When we were kids we were all wrestling around in the backyard like we always did. Somehow my brother, Billy, ended up wrestling a little girl named Johnna. Johnna was probably around 6 or 7 and my brother was around 10 or so.
He was taking it easy on her and somehow in the process of wrestling she became mad at him. She started running after him, calling him names and kicking at him while he was on the ground rolling away from her. We were all laughing at the grand show they were putting on for us.
All of a sudden one of her kicks landed perfectly in Billy's future family jewels. He curled up in a shriveled little ball unable to move or speak or breathe. Little Johnna stood over top of him asking, "Come on Billy, why can't you play with me anymore? Am I too tough for you or just what!"
She was completely unaware as to the situation that my poor, poor brother was in. In her innocense she stood over top of his pain wracked body berating him for not playing the game anymore.
We all fell on the ground laughing uproariously at the grand show. It was a most excellent spectacle.