Marsha, Marsha, Marsha

I was playing with Kenny last night and he threw his shoulder into my face.  Specifically my nose, so hard that I went from kneeling up to flat on my back and upon realizing what had happened, started to cry like a startled three year old.  Kenny proceeded to bark at me to keep playing and Bruce got down on the floor with me and told me "You're OK you're just in pain" my thought was "WHAT!?!?! I'm going to look like Marsha Brady when she gets hit in the face with the football."

Today it hurts like hell, but I don't quite look like Marsha, Marsha, Marsha . . .