Anger Management
I was asked today if I have ever been so angry at someone that I threw something. This is funny to me as it takes a lot to get me angry but I am indeed a Thrower, although I have terrible aim. It was also funny to me because I was talking to my best friend just yesterday and she said she was so frustrated at something that she threw some of her clothes. She then asked me if I knew how ungratifying it was to throw clothing as it really goes nowhere. I do indeed.
I have 2 friends on MySpace that can play witness to this fit.
The first time I was ever mad enough to throw something was when Rodney and Ethan and I lived at the house out on Eagle Mountain Lake. We had just gotten some Taco Bell with Karen Fimbrez and we were all sitting in the living room and Ethan said, out of nowhere, he was moving back into his parent’s house. Ok, fine. Then he said he was taking Baby Kitty (Small Cat) with him. I objected and said if he wanted she could stay at the lake house because she was so happy there. He was about to say yes and then Rodney said with much intended authority “That’s his cat. He needs to take her.” I thought fire was running through my veins. I was sitting on the floor maybe 3 feet from Rodney and the only thing in my hand was a taco. So I threw it as hard as I could. I don’t think it even went 4 inches in front of me. I am not so sure it somehow did not wind up behind me. Baloo, our wolf dog, ran in and ate it. Then to add insult to insult, Karen looked at me and said “God, you’re tough.” Ethan did take Small Cat the next day. But then he called me a week later to come and get her. Karen and I went in the fog around his parents house scared to death his dad was gonna mistake us for burglars and shoot us. Luckily his mom put her inside for us. Small Cat came to live with me again and she is still to this day the best cat in the world, currently residing in Texas, currently being spoiled by Mamaw. She is small.
The next throwing episode also happened at the lake house. I can rightfully blame PMS for this one. It was a gorgeous spring day. Rodney had volunteered to go get hamburgers at Griff’s. That sounds easy enough but the trip to Griff’s and back was about 40 minutes each way. I told him my order - hamburger with mustard and ketchup only. NO LETTUCE – it’s wilted and gross and I hate mayo. I was starving by the time he got home. We had a table on the porch with a view of the lake and I had the back door open while I did some spring cleaning. Rodney came in, got his food and proceeded to walk to the table on the porch. About that time, I opened my hamburger and all it had on it was mayo and lettuce. Lots of lettuce. I screamed “MOTHER FUCKER!” and from the kitchen threw the hamburger through the living room, out the back door; it whizzed past Rodney’s ear and landed about 12 feet from the porch. Baloo was right behind it and quickly devoured any evidence of my fit. I don’t remember (selective memory and I have really tried to block this one out), but I think he accidentally took my hamburger instead and obviously, I threw his at him.
This was not out of anger, but when my friend Robert and I moved to New York, we witnessed our first snow. I insisted we go outside and play in it. We did and we made snow angels and ran around and acted like we were 5. I turned my back and made a snowball. I mean a good, hard, well put together snowball. I didn’t aim, not that that would have done any good, and I just threw it in his direction. It hit him right in the nose and mouth and completely smashed apart. He was so stunned he almost fell over. I was so stunned and secretly proud that I screamed “EEEEEEEEEEEEE!” and ran in the house.
Now that I think about it, I would really like to take archery lessons.
I have 2 friends on MySpace that can play witness to this fit.
The first time I was ever mad enough to throw something was when Rodney and Ethan and I lived at the house out on Eagle Mountain Lake. We had just gotten some Taco Bell with Karen Fimbrez and we were all sitting in the living room and Ethan said, out of nowhere, he was moving back into his parent’s house. Ok, fine. Then he said he was taking Baby Kitty (Small Cat) with him. I objected and said if he wanted she could stay at the lake house because she was so happy there. He was about to say yes and then Rodney said with much intended authority “That’s his cat. He needs to take her.” I thought fire was running through my veins. I was sitting on the floor maybe 3 feet from Rodney and the only thing in my hand was a taco. So I threw it as hard as I could. I don’t think it even went 4 inches in front of me. I am not so sure it somehow did not wind up behind me. Baloo, our wolf dog, ran in and ate it. Then to add insult to insult, Karen looked at me and said “God, you’re tough.” Ethan did take Small Cat the next day. But then he called me a week later to come and get her. Karen and I went in the fog around his parents house scared to death his dad was gonna mistake us for burglars and shoot us. Luckily his mom put her inside for us. Small Cat came to live with me again and she is still to this day the best cat in the world, currently residing in Texas, currently being spoiled by Mamaw. She is small.
The next throwing episode also happened at the lake house. I can rightfully blame PMS for this one. It was a gorgeous spring day. Rodney had volunteered to go get hamburgers at Griff’s. That sounds easy enough but the trip to Griff’s and back was about 40 minutes each way. I told him my order - hamburger with mustard and ketchup only. NO LETTUCE – it’s wilted and gross and I hate mayo. I was starving by the time he got home. We had a table on the porch with a view of the lake and I had the back door open while I did some spring cleaning. Rodney came in, got his food and proceeded to walk to the table on the porch. About that time, I opened my hamburger and all it had on it was mayo and lettuce. Lots of lettuce. I screamed “MOTHER FUCKER!” and from the kitchen threw the hamburger through the living room, out the back door; it whizzed past Rodney’s ear and landed about 12 feet from the porch. Baloo was right behind it and quickly devoured any evidence of my fit. I don’t remember (selective memory and I have really tried to block this one out), but I think he accidentally took my hamburger instead and obviously, I threw his at him.
This was not out of anger, but when my friend Robert and I moved to New York, we witnessed our first snow. I insisted we go outside and play in it. We did and we made snow angels and ran around and acted like we were 5. I turned my back and made a snowball. I mean a good, hard, well put together snowball. I didn’t aim, not that that would have done any good, and I just threw it in his direction. It hit him right in the nose and mouth and completely smashed apart. He was so stunned he almost fell over. I was so stunned and secretly proud that I screamed “EEEEEEEEEEEEE!” and ran in the house.
Now that I think about it, I would really like to take archery lessons.
posted by Wigwam at 4:39 PM
1 Comments:
I forgot about the Griff's burger. Am the only recipient of your culinary curveballs? I recall a hairbrush flaying across the room, but that could have been me throwing that time.
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