The other day, I got to thinking (always dangerous).
About the reasons, events, and moments, in my life when I have experienced hackle raising(ie: I will come at your eyes).
They are far and few between all the love, however, it has happened, and when it does it is not pretty.
Here are a few classics (in chronological order):
My little sister was being picked on by neighborhood bully Kenny. He was knocking her off of her bike when we played Bike Tag (which, if you have never played- is awesome).I cut his tires so he couldn’t play.
My little sister was being picked on by some idiots in Middle School (I was in High School). I arranged for a little visit by my friend, Reggie, on his Harley, to the playground. They had a little talk. Problem solved.
My best High School friend, Debby, was being called a lesbian by several mean girls. The rumors spread. Debby was devastated, but it was nothing a full-on-the-mouth kiss in front of a full gymnasium of peers, and a counter-rumor of scabies among the blondes, couldn’t fix. I’m brunette, by the way.
Assorted teachers that found my son disruptive because he was asking to take tests before the course had been fully taught. The only thing disrupted was his learning- at least until he was allowed to accelerate through the system. Idiots.
A beautiful, sunny, weekend day of grass cutting, house painting, chores, and happiness, when I realized that the woman across the street was yelling serious obscenities at my kids because she had gone off her rocker (and her meds). A visit to the fence line with a call-out to the public sidewalk, peppered with a shut down in controlled, but colorful, speech, found her raving when the police arrived, and my neighbor chanting, ” Oh oh. Cheryl’s in the house.” Bye-bye crazy lady.
The charitable gift of a ten dollar bill, to a sweet young thing, bemoaning a car malfunction down the road, when, I saw her skip off to the streetcar line with a young man, who had magically appeared out of the bushes, whereby I followed the street car all the way downtown, and by which, when they disembarked, I pulled up along side them and demanded my money back. Startled as they were, the money was reimbursed.
My list could go on and on and on…
But it’s just not my list. There are other’s who have had such moments, like my friend Alyson at The Shitastrophy
I only wish I had been there.