In the past couple of years, I’ve learned just how ferocious I can be. If you get nasty with my children, you can expect to get nasty back. Earlier today we were in a thrift store, when a woman declared, “Your little girl has such pretty hair.” Immediately, my child said, “I’m just me.” Undeterred, the woman responded, “I know what you are now…Tell your parents to cut your hair so that you’ll stop looking like one of these transgendered shemans.” Garnering what little restraint I could muster, I raised my voice and said, “Ma’am, if you say another goddamn word…things are going to get nastier than you could ever imagine. I suggest you quickly leave the store.” Though my children couldn’t understand everything that had just happened, they knew enough to know that their dad didn’t and wasn’t going to back down. In the midst of feeling some initial guilt for getting angry, I felt a stirring in my spirit…and realized that God created ferociousness.