Obviously hurting children is an abominable act that I would NEVER in a million years condone. But when one is on the receiving end of a man check there's a fleeting moment, just a flash, where drop kicking your precious child seems completely justified. Fortunately this never happens because A) the rational, loving, nurturing part of the brain takes over quickly and B) you're completely incapacitated for anywhere from 30 seconds to 3 minutes depending on accuracy.
Sadly my boys are balls-on accurate every time. They can nail me with precision using their fists, their heads, knees, elbows, a broom, a bicycle, and one time even a yo-yo. Pretty impressive. Their preferred method however is the under-the-covers kick.
When they were newborns we avoided any bed sharing. Bedtime meant you went in your cage where you were safe from the world and daddy's nads were safe from you. But now that they're older and have figured out how doorknobs work, late-night bed sharing is an inevitability, and with it comes the crotch walloping .
You'd think that while lying along side them that their height would be a factor, but nature has figured that one out too. When they're toddlers they prefer to cuddle low, with their heads just about armpit level and their feet at coin purse level. As they get older and their heads get proportionally smaller, they prefer pillows so they scoot up a little higher. Higher head means higher feet which means that every little move they make is followed by a quick WHAM! WHAM! double-shot to the wedding tackle. That nature is a crafty bitch.