The Big Little Battle

The moment was a fleeting one, but the lesson learned has persevered. 

And the lesson pretty much single-handedly destroyed what I'd spent years building up.

The message, conveyed to my 4yr old in less than a few seconds: Mommy can shove it. 

In case you decide not to read the background story here, let me give you the Coles-notes version:

- last month, we met Winnipeg Jets' Blake Wheeler and Bryan Little.

What I neglected to mention in my original post about this public meet-and-greet was that Bryan Little, Jets #18, centre-extrodinaire, vandalized my property. And that reckless act led to yesterday's defacement and the excuse that accompanied it.

Jets lovers, don't hate, just stay with me here....

(I should mention this now: despite the tone of my post, I'm not AT ALL pissed off at Little - it's just fun to blame a kajillionaire for what truly was a sweet, innocent act that unpredictably led to the demise of my property!)

Rewind to St. Patrick's Day, only a mere few weeks ago. Despite the meltdown Roo went through over not getting to wear her Christmas dress, I made sure she showed up to the meet-and-greet at the Winnipeg Pet Rescue Shelter in her brand spankin' new Jets jersey.

Like, BRAND new. Just cut the tags off that morning.

By the time us gals showed up, we were shuttled to the front of the line. Our hands were stamped, our donation to the shelter was made, and while trying to juggle our stuff around and pull out of our bags what we were going to get signed, Roo decided she would become concerned that the lady who stamped her hand had stamped TOO hard.

A true kerfuffle ensued! The line was moving quickly, people were getting processed and moved along like Big Macs at a McD's drive-thru during the lunch rush. While still attempting to manage everything, before we knew it, it was OUR turn. I was trying to get my phone out to snap a few pics (for posterity's sake and bragging rights), and, simultaneously, trying to convince Roo that she DIDN'T need to go back to the end of the line to get a NEW stamp on her hand. Before I knew it, we were up. Show time. Roo and I had been practicing her GO JETS GO! chant in the car all the way there, but instead of impressing the athletes with her adorable raving fan-ability, all she could do was complain to Bryan Little about the stamp on her hand!

Lemme say this: both guys were great. Patient, cordial, friendly - if there was any arrogance that accompanies fandom, they either suppressed it or lack it completely. I was quite impressed. So while I was getting my Jets t-shirt out for them to sign, and while Roo was nattering to Little about the stamp, he, in a very pleasant and kind manner, with a big ol' million watt smile, leaned across the table and said, "Do you want me to sign your jersey?"

Now I really should have that talk with my 4yr old about not always saying YES to questions that complete strangers ask her. But anyway, that's what she did.

And so that's what he did.

He leaned across the table, Sharpie in hand, and signed her jersey.

Of course, I don't mind. In fact, I'm glad one of us thought to get that done; however, in retrospect, what if I was saving that jersey to be autographed by someone else? (I wasn't...) But he just took it upon himself to put his Herbie Hancock, in permanent ink, on my daughter's clothing!

(Calm down, Jets fans, I jest - I love that Little did that! Again, if you can't poke fun at kajillionaires, who can you poke fun at?)

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon.

Things became awfully quiet when Roo was, only moments before, laughing it up with one of her games while I was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher. When the silence was a bit too much to bear, I called out to her.

"Mommy! Come see what I did!" she responded, just bursting with excitement.

Never words you want to hear your 4 yr old say after they've been quiet for a while.

Followed her into the office and found this:

My first instinct, oddly enough, was to laugh (NEVER let them see you even remotely smirk with this kinda stuff - that opens up a whole new world of unintentional hurt for your furniture, your walls, anything that could use the Roo touch!).

But instead, I hid that irresistible culprit of a permanent marker. And then I took the pic. (And then I turned my back to her and tried my hardest to NOT let her hear me laugh.)

I was sure I told her this when she first began colouring: paper. Only on paper. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt.

So then we sat down and talked about it.

"Now listen Pumpkin: markers, pens, crayons, pencil crayons, sharpies - all that stuff is JUST for paper, ok? Never use them on anything else, promise?"

Roo responded without hesitation: "Not even on clothes, Mommy?"

"Noooo, not on clothes at all, ever."

"But what about that man with the pen at the place where the puppies were and then he put his name on my shirt? He used marker on clothes, so I can use marker on clothes, too, right, Mommy?"

Sigh.

In my own personal battle with Little (again, because he's super sweet and crazy rich and ridiculously talented and my conflict is completely unwarranted but I'm curious to see how long this lasts), Bryan Little: 2, Me: 0.

SoundTracking: My Sweet Lord (George Harrison)

My fault, Winnipeg

Yeah, I'll take the blame.

The Jets lost last night's important game to Carolina 4-3.

Jets' forward Tanner Glass even admitted the team "played a little casual throughout the whole game."

As Dono and I watched the collapse of our beloved Jets right before our eyes, one of the comments that kept coming up in discussion was, "Wow, Wheels is TOTALLY dipsy doodling."

And that's when it hit me.

Blake Wheeler (or Wheels, as we affectionately call him), the 25yr old fan favourite, a powerhouse of energy who oozes masterful skill and unmatched speed, was unraveling in a relentless loop of failing dipsy doodledge.

(For those of you unfamiliar with the term, much like I was only a few short months ago, dipsy doodle is a quick move or series of moves by the puck-carrier, showing great stick-handling ability and deking defending players.)

Now I'm not a professional hockey player (read: I can't even walk without tripping, let alone strapping blades to my feet and putting me on a sheet of ice), so I can't speak expertly on this topic; HOWEVER, I do know this: it's great when it works, and even better to hear commentators actually USE that term, but when relentless attempts at successful dipsy doodling spiral into failure, sometimes it's just not your game, and you should try a different approach.

Here's where I take the blame.

On Saturday, we had the opportunity to meet Wheels and fellow Jet Bryan Little at a signing at Winnipeg Pet Rescue Shelter. When our turn came up to get some stuff autographed, I took a moment to gush (in a non-creepy way) to these guys about how much I appreciate them.  

"Now, I've gotta say, I don't understand 'offside' or 'icing', in fact I've never watched hockey a day in my life before you guys come into my town and stir up this amazing spirit, and now I'm super excited about it all and I just wanna say thanks!" I handed Wheels and Little each their own purse-sized bottle of hand sanitizer, because they were meeting lots of people that day and I didn't want either of them to contract the flesh-eating disease from some deranged fan. 

I also said, in my little spiel to Wheels and Little, how can you NOT love a sport where commentators use the term DIPSY DOODLING with a straight face? We all got a good chuckle out of it.

So fast forward to last night's game - WHAT IF WHEELS WAS DOING THAT ALL ON PURPOSE? That brief interaction we had OBVIOUSLY made an impact on him! It seemed he was trying to let me know, "Hey, Cat - is that commentator saying dipsy doodle enough for you? Want him to say it s'more? Ok! Check THIS out!" 

Yes, Wheels, the commentator WAS saying it enough for me! And y'know what? Win or lose, who cares about points (I still don't even understand them), I will never forget how you took one for the team so that you could bring a smile to the face of your now-biggest fan. 

We're up next! Waiting to meet Wheels (the guy in the dark shirt) and Little (the guy with the cap)

Aaaaaand there's my new favourite! My man Wheels more than likely about to indulge in some fancy dipsy doodling for his number one fan!