Little Willie came home in a sad state. He had a black eye and numerous scratches and contusions, and his clothes were a sight. His mother was horrified at the spectacle presented by

Little Willie came home in a sad state. He had a black eye, numerous scratches, and his clothes looked like they had lost a battle with a tornado.

His mother gasped in horror. "Willie! What on earth happened to you?"

Willie sniffled and said, "It was a terrible fight, Ma!"

His mother knelt beside him, brushing the dirt off his face. "A fight? With who? And why?"

Willie sighed dramatically. "It was Tommy Jenkins. We got into a big argument."

His mother frowned. "About what?"

Willie looked down and muttered, "He said his dad was stronger than my dad."

His mother rolled her eyes. "Willie, that’s no reason to fight! You should’ve just walked away."

Willie shook his head. "I tried, Ma! But then... then he said his mom could bake better cookies than you!"

His mother’s eyes narrowed. "Oh, really?"

Willie nodded solemnly. "I couldn’t let that stand. I had to defend your honor."

His mother sighed, then pulled him into a hug. "That’s sweet, Willie, but look at you! All bruised up. I hope you learned something from this."

Willie nodded again. "I sure did, Ma. Next time, I’m bringing a rolling pin!"