perception is reality

When I was eight years old my brother and I were fighting in our room. I had Danny pinned down on the bed and was punching him in the chest (I was a mean bastard but never did I wish to truly hurt my brother) when my father burst into the room. Dad was no doubt annoyed by the volume not the possible outcome of such horseplay. My father grabbed me by the legs and pulled me quite forcefully off of Danny, hoisting me into a reverse superman to land face first on the bedpost. The next day my dear brother told an epic tail of triumph over an elder foe in which he vanquished his brother with one mighty blow. All day I found myself at a lose to rebuke his testimony....you see I, by this time, had one heck of a shiner thanks to that vicious bedpost to the eye.