Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Hat Mishaps on Opening Day
I got snippy with a Dancing Granny today because she insisted on opening the $12 can of beer I’d just bought at the ballpark. Like, why do you have to open it? If you open it, I can’t put the can in my pocket with the other can so I can have my hands free for the two hot dogs and cheese curds that I’m also buying. I didn’t get awful, I just asked her to relay to management, if they ever asked, that some folks put their beer in their pockets and having the beer open makes a terrible mess.
That she was a Dancing Granny, that is, a member of a beloved dance group that marches in all the big parades, twirling batons with streamers and doing super cute, synchronized dance steps, well, all that went way over my head despite Dancing Granny being stitched on her baseball cap. Her group was manning a concession stand to raise money for their twirling. (Which I love and have thought of doing but you have to try out to be a Dancing Granny and I can’t risk rejection like that.)
Speaking of hats, today was opening day for the Milwaukee Brewers. It wasn’t until the fifth inning that I felt the top of my new pink baseball hat. And behold, the little black plastic hook from whence my hat once hung in the team store was still there.
I felt like Minnie Pearl. (I make that reference because it hasn’t escaped me that my readership is largely comprised of my age peers, in which case you probably know exactly who Minnie Pearl was, but I provided a link just in case.)
I was incredulous. How could I have dressed, put on my hat, gotten in the car, driven to the ballpark, walked to our seats, and sat through five innings with my husband and he doesn’t say a word. Not, hey, let me get that thing off your hat, or you probably didn’t notice it but the plastic hook from the store is still on your hat, or you might want to check the top of your hat because the guy behind us is looking at your hat funny. Nope.
Lordy.
My beloved is going to let me walk out of the house looking like Minnie Pearl and, honestly, I don’t know what to make of that. That he doesn’t care if I look like Minnie Pearl might be the best interpretation. His love is enduring despite plastic hooks, price tags, or bits and pieces of last night’s dinner hanging from my hat. I jest.
It’s all good. Brewers beat the White Sox 14-2.
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Snow Door | wisconsinacademy.org
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
LOL! At least everything was covered, nothing waving in the breeze. Surely he would have spoken up than right? I hope the Grannies remember for the future to at least ask if you want assistance. I bet they know that old adage about “assuming” things.