A Cowboy Hat for Her, A Dunce Cap for Him

I am so thrilled to have found the goofy looking hat that it doesn’t compute at first that she is not breathing into a paper bag with excitement.

I ask if she’d still like it.
I get a tentative “yes.”
I ask her if I should drop it off to her at Dad’s house.
She does not immediately answer.
I ask that if she is going to the pancake breakfast before the cheer station, I could bring it there and give it to her.
She begins to ask how long we’ll be at the breakfast and it becomes apparent that Lars is hovering nearby. She hesitates to speak.
And then she is speaking to him.
And then she says to me, “We’re not going to the breakfast for a while.”
I say, “But sweetie, you need to be at the cheer station in an hour and you’ll miss the breakfast if you go after…”
And then she says, “Dad would like to speak to you.”
I decide not to let him talk first, “Hey, I’m headed to the breakfast and have Hil’s hat. Do you want me to take her to breakfast and drop her off at the cheer station?” – which would make the most sense.
Lars acts like he can not believe the suggestion. How dare I?
“You know…(stammering, evidently in disbelief)…I mean….(more unintelligible noises meant to be interpreted as disbelief)…I mean, come ON!”
I say, “What Lars? Hil needs her hat. I can drop it off, but I can also take her to breakfast and to the cheer thing if you are not ready to go, as it would seem.”
“No! You just went through this big thing about your time and my time and now you think it’s okay for you to do this?

He says “this” like I have just suggested selling our child on the black market.

Now Scott is looking concerned. And I am about to misbehave.

“The difference, Lars,” and I say his name like I would punctuate the end of a sentence with “dickhead” or “asswipe” which may actually still happen. “Is that I am trying to help Hil, not control anything or berate anyone or abuse anyone. I am trying to do something for her. You just cross boundaries and make everyone miserable with your intrusions.”

He hangs up.

I text. “You are a total asshole and your behavior is completely childish.”

He writes back, as if from the Seminary, “Please stop sending curse words to my phone.”

I reply. “Drop Dead.”

I am fuming. Scott asserts that Lars kind of has a point.

I agree that he thinks he has a point, but the black and white thinker never does get the subtleties in these situations. I guess Hil will have to live without the hat because Lars can’t see the value in my getting it to her. And his delaying going to the breakfast was to avoid any chance that she’d see me. Or maybe that he’d see me. Geez. Someone might actually turn to stone.

I calm myself sufficiently to get in the car and head to the breakfast. I do not want Pat to see that I am fuming. I take deep cleansing breaths the entire journey and am genuinely overjoyed to walk into the church auditorium to be greeted by a beaming, smiling Pat.