The other day we stopped at Wal-hell to pick up H3’s (new) favorite ice cream. For those of you in the ‘ville, H3 claims it tastes just like the original Erhler’s vanilla. So even though we have sworn to never shop at Wal-Mart (at least 100 times) they suck you in with items you can't get anywhere else.

As we were leaving the store, H3 walked over to the outside lawn & garden area as I went back to the car. When I turned around, a man had walked up to H3 and started patting him on the back. I was intrigued, trying to figure whom this man was. As I continued to watch, the man and H3 shook hands. I couldn't see H3's face, and I was not sure what was going on. As the man proceeded to pat and rub H3's back, the intimacy of the situation led me to believe that H3 must know this man very well.

When H3 finally turned to leave, the man was smiling as he watched H3 walk my way. That's when I realized (by the look on his face) that H3 was not a happy camper. When he opened the car door I asked, "What was all that about?"

It seems that the man (a total stranger) walked up and asked H3 if he was going to build something. Surprised, H3 responded with, "Maybe." Then the man asked H3 if he worked in the area and proceeded to pat H3's back again.

At that point a stunned H3 asked, "Do I know you from somewhere?" The man introduced himself (hence the handshake) and asked H3 his name. H3 responded with first name only and again asked if the man knew him from somewhere. That's when this event took a twisted turn.

The man smiled (sweetly) at H3 and said, "I might. Do you know Jesus?" Not knowing what to say H3 muttered "yes" -- as in, yes I know who he is.

Then the man (once again patting and rubbing H3's back) responded "But do you know Jesus as your personal savior?"

My wonderful husband responded "I know I am going to womp your ass if you touch me again" and walked off. It took H3 the entire ride home to calm down. During the ride he ranted about the unspoken "guy rule" that you don't touch another man unsolicited without risk of an ass kicking. That's when noodle chimed in (wanting to make sure he was being compliant) with "unless it's your son, right Dad?"

It's a good thing that H3 did not notice the man's creepy smile as he watched H3 walk away. He might have opened up can of South-Louisville whoop-ass in the parking lot of the Mayberry Wal-Mart.