There has been a great debate in my house recently. It does not involve anything political but something much more profound. Who would win in a showdown - Clint Eastwood or Chuck Norris.

"Chuck Norris rules," was my answer.

"Chuck Norris would not stand a chance against Clint Eastwood," my child said. To be 7, he somehow has acquired a great affinity for Dirty Harry. I am sure his father is somehow implicated in this treason.

"Chuck Norris would pass out if he even saw Clint Eastwood's shadow," Cole added.

"Chuck Norris isn't scared of anything," I said. "He's not scared of the dark; the dark is scared of Chuck Norris."

"Your Mama doesn't know what she's talking about," Lamar commented. "Chuck Norris ain't nothing compared to Eastwood."

"Whatever," I said. "People line up to have their taters kicked by Chuck Norris. They are proud to say they got a round house kick to the head by him."

I wasn't always a Chuck Norris fan. It probably had something to do with the fact anytime a Chuck Norris movie came on T.V., back in the days of only having five channels, my uncle had to watch it.

I thought watching ‘Delta Force' was surely a form of punishment and my sweet uncle must have hated me. Then when V.H.S. tapes became the norm, he rented the movies he had already seen and made me watch them. Again.

I grew to have a great dislike for Chuck Norris.

Until I read a story in the National Enquirer about how Chuck stopped traffic on an L.A. freeway to save a dog. That was all it took.

The man, no matter how tough he was, had a soft spot for a stray. I was instantly a fan.

"We're for Clint Eastwood and his .45," Cole continued his argument.

"Chuck Norris would eat that gun and spit out shrapnel," I said. "I like Clint, he made ‘Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil' but I think Chuck would beat him."

"No way," Lamar said. "Chuck Norris doesn't stand a chance."

"Mama, Clint Eastwood is so tough, he could even take down Optimus Prime. He could take down Darth Vader and he could annihilate the Terminator," Cole declared.

"I think the Terminator's wife is taking care of that, as she should be," I said.

"Nennie," Cole began, turning to my mama. "Who do you think is the toughest man alive?"

Mama thought for a second. "Horatio Caine."

"Who?" the three of us said in unison.

"On ‘C.S.I: Miami,'" Mama explained. "Don't ya'll watch that?"

"No," Cole said. "We watch good stuff, like Dirty Harry and ‘Dog the Bounty Hunter.'"

Mama shook her head.

"Y'all don't know what you're missing. He's really mean and doesn't mind shooting someone."

"Let's take a vote," Cole said, bringing democracy to the argument. "Who says Clint Eastwood?" Lamar and Cole raised their hands. "That's two. Who's for the old Total Gym guy?"

I raised my hand.

My mother, the traitor, didn't cast her vote for Walker, Texas Ranger.

"Nennie?" Cole asked.

"Horatio Caine," remained her answer.

We still don't know who that is.

"You lose," Cole announced. "We win, we win, Clint Eastwood wins!"

The argument didn't end there, but has continued to this day, with Cole getting his anti-Chuck Norris jabs in periodically to let me know he still thinks that Clint Eastwood is the top tough guy.

I have stopped arguing my side of the debate with my child; I will always believe Chuck Norris and his roundhouse kicks are our country's best secret weapon.

I still don't know who this Horatio Caine person is, but no matter how tough he may be, I bet he's smart enough to be scared of Chuck Norris.

Sudie Crouch is an award-winning humor columnist and certified life coach. She lives in the north Georgia mountains with her family and four insane, but fairly well behaved dogs.