The Velvet Devil
Sometimes you need to carry a pitchfork…
Last week was quite a week. Not that every week doesn’t have something crazy going on, but this last week really put my electric corkscrew to the test. It’s the type of week that made me wish I carried my pitchfork more often.
There were two stressful High School tennis matches last week. The first one went well and was pretty uneventful considering it’s a rival team, however the second one was a real doozy (I sound like a 90 year old lady with that word). While I try to stay calm and keep quiet during these matches (Hey…I hear you laughing) sometimes there is an idiot that makes things difficult. I’m sure idiot isn’t politically correct so let me change that too…hmm…hard to find the right word that is appropriate for blog reading. For lack of a better word, let’s say this person has a membership to the “know-it-all” club.
The day started with know-it-all’s guest reading two of us the riot act over how they had to get into the school for the match and insisted we needed to do something about it. I appreciate the fact they thought I was in charge (I do love being in charge), but I had to kindly mention that I do not run the school, the district, nor am I in control of the Covid rules for sports. We are all in the same boat here (although I doubt this one would be in my boat for long if I had my pitchfork).
Next up the platinum card carrying “know it all”. As fate would have it, “know it all” Jr. would play none other than my kid. Without going into detail, I was cheering for my kid and yelled some encouraging reminders. This was not ok with you know who and they let me know in a very passive aggressive way that I was inappropriate and not allowed to “coach”. Angry I didn’t have my pitchfork with me I was the bigger person and walked away leaving a trail of smoke in my path.
Now I admit, I am not always calm at sporting events, but I blame genetics. Our family is not known for their quiet observance of sports, however, nothing irritates me more than someone being so high and mighty that they think they can “call me out”. It’s right up there with a guy calling me “sweetie” or an adult calling “mama” if I didn’t give birth to you. The real corker (no pun intended) in this whole thing is “know it all” thought I should apologize for cheering. WHAT?? The only thing I wanted to apologize for is the fact I wasn’t wearing stilettoes so I could imprint the heel into his hand and that I had left my pitchfork in my other purse.
This brings us to yesterday, at a tennis match (where else). It was over 90 out and my kid was struggling so being the good “sports parent” I am I went to sit in my car to refrain from yelling anything inappropriate (see paragraph above…bad genetics). I turned the car on to run the air while my little fur-angels frolicked around the backseat. I decided to step out of the car to see how the match was going and closed the door so the pups wouldn’t escape (mistake 1). When I turned back around to get into the car it was locked and there were 2 smiling pups(I swear they had smiles) looking back at me through the driver window. Behind them were my phone and my purse with the car keys inside (mistake 2). I start pointing to the door lock trying to tell my little devils to push the unlock button, but they just keep wagging their tails. I’m pretty sure I heard them laughing. This is the point my pitchfork would’ve come in handy. After several minutes I decide to try a different approach. I decided maybe there were too many button choices on the driver’s side so perhaps I could try the backseat where there was only one window button. I lured them to the back and somehow got the older one to push the window button enough to roll down the window so I could reach my arm inside the car and unlock the door. Success! Now I had to crawl over the front seat to push the unlock button to actually get into the car. The lesson here is always keep your keys in your pocket or work on teaching your pups to push the unlock button.
The Velvet Devil merlot, as fate would have it, was the wine on special after my exhausting dealings with “know it all”. It was the perfect choice for a silver tongued devil such as myself. As the name implies it is smooth and tempting. In fact I drank the rest of it last night while I was sharpening my pitchfork so it will be ready for this week.
Until Next Time….Salute