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It started at the end of last week, really. Well, technically, it started the Sunday I complained about my dog eating my scarf.
I should’ve known better than to tempt fate by uttering aloud the words, “Oh well, it could have been so much worse.”
Because the Friday before last, my friends, it certainly was.
We walked into the house after a long but wonderful day in North Canton watching Kyle’s swim meet when suddenly there it was: the carnage wrought by our boxer, Monica. We typically call her Monnie, though on that particular evening, her other moniker of “The Monster” seemed spot-on accurate as a descriptor.
Left to roam freely in the kitchen, family room and foyer for the better part of six hours, Miss Monica saw it fitting to obliterate not one but two television remote controls, three rolls of toilet paper (one of which peppered the majority of the kitchen), a tablecloth and one statue quite small in size but huge in emotional value.
It was our obvious penance for having briefly greeted her after work but then promptly leaving again.
Can you believe Kyle’s recently-referenced chair-o-crap was completely unscathed? Only things predominantly associated with Mom and Dad were annihilated from existence.
I know we’re all eagerly awaiting the new “Star Wars” movie, but on that fateful evening, friends, it wasn’t about the Empire, but rather, “Monnie Strikes Back.”
#baddog #sorrynotsorry Santa is NOT pleased.
Hmpf.
Then came the whole Fiesta Bowl-gate controversy. As soon as we learned that our beloved OSU Buckeyes would be lacing up against our also-adored Notre Dame, this kin became a family divided. Half of us are Team Fighting Irish and indignant against the other half – who are hollering for the Horseshoe.
I fall into the latter category, heaven help me. Hey, our coach attended the very same Catholic High School in Ashtabula as did my Mom – St. John. Not to mention his little stint coaching at ND some years ago. Plus, I see OSU players making the sign of the cross all the time. But most importantly, “Touchdown Jesus” lives in Ohio, too, people. So, it’s not bad if I root for my Buckeyes
Is it? Hmm.
The following morning I was rushing around to get Kyle to his 6 a.m. conditioning session when POOF! My blow dryer caught fire. In my hand.
Did I mention that as I left the house looking like a wet hen with a perm, I looked down long enough to spot a very large rip in my brand new, fancy pantyhose – the ones I chosen specifically because I was presenting to the senior management team at my day job that afternoon?
To top it all off, as I navigated through the creepy fog that’s been hanging around our region lately, I groped blindly about my cup holder to reveal that I’d forgotten my coffee on the kitchen counter.
Dang it!
Then, no more than 16 hours after my speech about the importance of employee engagement and respectfully valuing peers, bosses and support staff equally in the workplace, I had a most irksome experience with someone treating me a bit like one of the steerage passengers on the Titanic – during the mad scramble for a lifeboat seat, by the way.
Grrr.
Naturally, the last thing self-absorbed Patty felt like doing that evening was leading the church Youth Group in Christmas caroling at a nearby nursing home.
“I’m tired, I’m hungry and I’ve had a really bad day!” I whined to myself en route.
And just as I was about to board the Pity Party Express, we started singing, to the delight of a large group of seniors living at the home. I felt my heart melt a whole ton when a little old man grabbed my hand, looked deep into my eyes and said, “God Bless you, miss; this has been the highlight of my whole month!”
First of all, anyone who calls me “miss” gets an automatic hug. Secondly, shame on PK for lamenting little bumps along life’s beautiful road, especially during this Advent season and at a time when the globe is fraught with real problems.
“You’re more than welcome,” I said to the sweet gentleman, mostly for reminding me that the celebration of Christmas is proof positive that there’s hope for the world.
And maybe even for Monnie to get back out of jail sometime in the New Year.
Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist who’s praying it’s not a sin to root for OSU over Notre Dame on New Year’s Day. Check out her daily blog at www.patriciakimerer.com