Do any of you remember that pro football summer league that Vince McMahon tried to start a couple of years ago called the XFL?
Okay, if you don't no biggie.
But if you do, you probably remember that the players could put whatever they wanted on the backs of their jerseys, they didn't have to use their names.
Well, there was this one dude, (and of course I have no idea what his name was, because he chose NOT to display it on his jersey), who put HE HATE ME on his jersey.
Billy Two Swords and I were perplexed.
What does that mean?
HE HATE ME?
Why doesn't he say HE HATES ME?
Was he that bad at grammar?
Was it some personal joke?
What I CAN tell you is this, HE HATE ME definitely grabbed my attention.
Years later, (yeah, if you've never heard of the XFL, it's cuz it didn't last very long), when I was working, I had a supervisor who absolutely hated my guts.
And of course, being the pot-stirrer that I am (I swear it's genetic, and no, of course not, Mother, it does NOT come from your side of the gene pool), I entered this contest at work to give this dude a nick name.
I chose Peter Pan.
Was it for the peanut butter?
Or for the tight-wearing fairie?
My business, not yours!
Anyhoo, guess who won the contest?
The pot-stirrer, yours truly, of course.
A comp day.
Oh how I wish I could build a time machine and trade that comp day in for ten weeks of Chinese water torture.
It wasn't God's plan.
Peter Pan hated me so much, I can't even describe the hatred.
He wasn't a big fan of the nickname, and he certainly wasn't a big fan of me even BEFORE the nickname, so to say that I was on "his list" is a huge understatement.
I really wanted to order an XFL jersey with "HE HATE ME" on it. I really did.
Fast forward to TODAY.
Reilly the Red doesn't have school today because it's a teacher workday.
We have been battling sometimes, and working together sometimes, at overcoming the thumbsucking addiction.
So earlier today, we worked together on a homework project that I knew would take about 6 minutes, and she was convinced would take all day.
The whole time she was "stuck" with me, she was seriously, huffing and puffing, like the wolf.
And I would be the three little pigs. All three of them. That's how much SHE hated me TODAY.
And then she was REALLY mad because I allowed her little brother to stay home today also (come on, it's K-4, and his excuse for not wanting to go to school was "UGH! Mom, of course I don't want to go to school today! We have SPANISH on Mondays! I HATE Spanish!" and that really hit me where it counts, cuz yeah, who liked SPANISH, seriously, and to make them take it at 4? Yeah, okay, it might be a great idea and all, but THAT WOULD TOTALLY SUCK!).
So today, she HATED me.
Oh, but wait.
With this ginsu knife, you get.....HAIR SPRAY!
While she wasn't looking, I sprayed her thumb with hair spray!
It would make her stop sucking her thumb today, right?
She would love me so much for my very bright idea, right?
Until the barrage of "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" was unleashed.
So today, my beautiful daughter, whom I cherish and adore and worship and love with all my heart, well,
SHE HATE ME.