Sunday, November 25, 2012

What Would Hillary Do?



Easy to use, no training required
My 10-year-old Rachel is enjoying her longed-for tennis lessons this fall; but I was having a hard time that first week watching the 2 girls in the class pick all the balls up off the court, while the only boy practiced his baseball pitches against the court fence.  The instructor was busy talking to Mr. Hot Shot's father, so neither of them said anything to the kid about his shirking.

"Rachel," I said, on the way over the next week.  "Don't let him get away with that this time.  Hit him on the legs with the ball picker-upper tube and tell him to help."

I sensed a doubtful silence emanating from the seat behind me.

"Never mind," I told her.  "I'll show you how it's done."

I fumed about the unfairness of the situation all the way through the 2-mile walk I took during the first part of Rachel's lesson.  If any puffed-up blowhard of a dad thinks that MY DAUGHTER should pick up after HIS SON, I told myself, then he's going to hear about it from me.  I arrived back at the court fired up with righteousness, a post-menopausal avenging angel for all the indignities ever visited upon the fairer sex. 

Hillary would have known what to do.
No wonder Hillary Clinton didn't care about all that crap that was spewed at her in 2007/2008.  No wonder Nancy Pelosi can get through a day without heavy drinking.  They're not at the mercy of their hormones anymore.  And now?  Neither am I.  FIRST I'd tell the kid to pick up those balls.  And THEN I'd tell that dad what I thought of his son AND of his parenting.

My plans were laid.

But, wouldn't you know, that wily kid was actually doing his fair share that day?  I'm thinking that, in typical male fashion, he vaguely sensed the feminine fury headed his way.  So there I was, left with noone to instruct on the nature of true gender equality. 

What happens to a diatribe deferred, anyway?





[Tennis ball tube image: ExpertLaw]




15 comments:

  1. "What happens to a diatribe deferred, anyway?" It turns into dark chocolate, usually eaten about an hour after the rest of the family is in bed.

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  2. so true, lynn! although chocolate has started giving me heartburn so i'll need another option.

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  3. These days, my righteous indignation seems to be reserved for my own 13-year-old.

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    1. On behalf of your 13-year-old, or directed at your 13-year-old?

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    2. Directed AT my 13-yr-old. A year ago, it was on behalf of, but now she has thoroughly entered teenagerdom.

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  4. My diatribes fester until inadvertently (perhaps even innocently) poked by a family member... at which point I explode.
    I might need more chocolate.

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  5. This post was funny and real!

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  6. My guess is that someone will be on the receiving end of that well crafted diatribe soon enough. It would be a shame to let it go to waste!

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  7. He sensed the wrath headed in his direction, no doubt. But keep that diatribe handy just in case.

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  8. Save the rant. You may need it next week.

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  9. If he shirks again, you'll be ready. :)

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  10. It would be nice to think he hopped to it because his dad chewed him a new one on their own car ride home . . . .

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  11. Ah I love it!! Whack him in the legs haha. I was thinking throw a ball at his head :)

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  12. At least your reasoning made sense! I seem to lose it on the stupidest things.

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  13. Or maybe Rachel actually hit him.

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