Head of the Family
Up until the age of 10, everything in my life was pretty much normal. I lived in with my brother and sister with mum and dad, we were a typical family. It was when I reached the age of 10 that I first noticed a strange thing as regarding my mother. It was a Saturday night, I was unwell and sleeping downstairs on the sofa, when my dad returned form the pub. He was absolutely blind drunk and unable to stand. Without thinking twice, my mum hoisted him over her shoulder and carried him upstairs to bed. I was astonished at the strength of her as my dad was a fairly big guy. The seemingly effortless motion that she lifted him up in, showed me for the fist time that my mum was a very strong lady. As time went by it was always in the back of my mind, and over the next few years, I started to notice things about her, such as the defined arms that showed when she was taking out the washing or moving the furniture.
It was about 3 years after that event, when I was awoken one night by my parents arguing downstairs. I quietly crept downstairs to see what was happening and through the crack in the door, I could see them preparing to settle their differences with an arm wrestle. I was shocked. I knew mum was strong for a woman, but my dad was a big burly guy of near 210llbs, she would stand no chance, so why agree to settle it this way?
I found my self sat watching my parents really go at it and I didn’t believe what I was seeing as my mum started to gain the upper hand. Her bicep was bulging in a way I had never seen before and she was not just holding her own, but she was winning. I thought that perhaps dad was easing up but his face was bright red with strain, he was really trying. The match lasted about a minute with mum steadily moving my dad’s arm downwards. With a final heave she had beaten him. I darted back upstairs and into bed, but I failed to sleep. The thought of my mum beating my dad was running through my head, over and over.
Several years passed and I never really gave the matter too much thought. I certainly never mentioned it to anyone including my family. I had just turned 21 and was a pretty good all rounder at sports. I considered myself to be fairly strong, and had a good win/loss ratio for arm-wrestles with other lads my age. It was turning 21 that got me thinking about the events from 8 years previously. My mum and dad had divorced and I went to see my dad to get my birthday present off him. We had a real father son chat, and I began to think about the point where a boy becomes a man. I always had the vision of the son becoming better than his father at various things. Being smarter, faster, STRONGER. I told him about this notion and we decided to arm wrestle. It was a drawn out match with both of us being closely matched. Eventually I won but it was a hollow victory. For some reason, my picture of beating the father and becoming a man was not fitting. I knew deep down that it was not my father that I would have to beat.
I returned home and spoke with mum but just couldn’t bring up the subject. After several days mulling over the subject, I decided that I just had to ask her to arm-wrestle me. I was sure I could beat her as I was in peak condition and she was no longer the youthful mum who had once beaten my dad. She was 45 now and hadn’t done any sort of sport for years. I just had to beat her to prove to myself that I was now a man.
I returned from work one night and decided that the time was right. I told her about watching her beat dad years back and about my theory of passing from boy to man.
"So you think you can beat your old mum do you?" She said. She seemed pretty confident and this made me feel uneasy. We locked up hands on the kitchen table and I was shocked by the initial grip. She obviously still was a woman of great strength as she almost hurt me with her squeeze. I tried to conceal my brief pain but she had seen it in my eyes. Both of us actually thought we were going to win. From the start I gave it my all and was amazed that she was resisting. She wasn’t moving me back, but she wasn’t moving much either. Eventually I made a breakthrough and started to push her arm back. Her arm that had not been active for years was suddenly coming to life again as veins started to emerge on her forearm. My progress halted and she started to fight back. My arm was getting tired and she was taking full advantage as she got me back up to the start position. I was in panic. She was still coming back after all the force I had exerted. My second wind kicked in and once more I got up steam and started to move her arm back, but again she re-grouped and got me back up to the starting position. Then all of a sudden, her arm seemed to explode. Her bicep started to grow from beneath her sleeve. This couldn’t be, she was starting to move my tired limb backwards. She was relentless in her push, the best I could do was hold steady for brief spells, but she had the confidence now and I was going downhill fast. My hand was about 2 inches from defeat and I was just managing to hold her off when the bicep beneath her sleeve swelled up still further and she forced my arm down with a hefty bang. She had beaten me and I was in shock.
I was embarrassed and didn’t know what else to say, so I simply asked to see her bicep. She rolled back her sleeve and flex it in my face. It was massive and as I felt it I found out that it was as hard as it was big. Despite me working out, her bicep was bigger than mine, I felt inferior.
"That’s what fetching and carrying for you all these years has done" she joked.
"Maybe we can try again when you reach 25" she added.
By then I should be strong enough to finally beat her, but even if I do, she will still be the strongest woman I ever met.