Grandpa’s kick was viewed differently from his foot.

Valerie had a bat raised.

I was shielding an infant.

He kicked her to stop another blow.

Investigators treated that as defense of others.

Then Valerie fell.

The bat dropped.

I was behind him.

Leo was safe.

Grandpa stepped on Valerie’s foot and threatened:

“Now it’s your turn to pay.”

That was retaliation.

Grandpa knew before anyone charged him.

He told the detective:

“The kick was to stop her.”

“And the foot?”

“Anger.”

“Threat?”

“Anger.”

No excuses.

He ultimately accepted a misdemeanor resolution.

Probation.

Anger-management counseling.

Community service.

No unlawful contact with Valerie.

He hated therapy.

Naturally.

His counselor asked:

“Why step on her foot?”

Grandpa answered:

“Because I wanted her scared.”

“Was she dangerous at that moment?”

“No.”

“So?”

“I punished her.”

“Are you authorized to punish adults physically?”

Grandpa stared.

Then said:

“No.”

He told me later:

“I have spent sixty years disliking simple questions.”

Useful treatment.