I hear you roar...you feel my punch.

So last night my girls had some friends over. As any modern middle aged father of three little girls knows, an assemblage of little girls must inevitably devolve into a dance party. Its gravity.

We cranked out some Youtube on the TV, with the five little girls screaming for their favorite songs. Eventually we got to this:

Which is fine.

My oldest is a tai kwon do brown belt. She loves the sport and I hope she sticks with it. A few months ago I playfully grabbed her ponytail. Instinctively her arm shot up and knocked by hand away. And let me tell you, it hurt a bit.

I don't necessarily mind the video of the girl kicking the crap out of all the boys. At that age they're more or less equal.

You roar, do you Katy Perry? You can do anything a man can do. Really?

Lemme show you what would REALLY happen:

The interesting thing, I thought, was the man in the 8 ball jacket. Look at how he hits that woman. He never balls his fist but strikes her with an open hand. It was just a slap really, and still that woman crumbled to the floor. He knew that if he hit her with full force he'd really hurt her. Obviously he didn't want that.

Now watch this:

That fight was over after the second punch. Look at that man, big burly with massive forearms. I bet he's a metal or construction worker or some such. Just devastating. That young man went home with bruises on his face, loose teeth, maybe a broken jaw.

Don't kid yourself ladies, you can't do everything I do. Chop that wood, push that lawn mower, carry those cinder blocks, lift that engine. Heck, steel and gird yourself against something unexpected or scary.  I don't think the gals have the self control I have. Spend a couple of days with your brain marinated in testosterone, see what's like.

There's a reason boys don't cry.

No caveats. I don't care.