Last Saturday, we drove to a different part of town for Sam’s soccer game. Per the coach’s instructions, we arrived a little early so the team could warm up beforehand. Apparently, they needed to work on important athletic skills like not screaming “Monkey nuts!” when the other team gets a goal. Or maybe it was passing, I’m not quite sure.
Anyway, getting there early meant we had to sit around and wait for another game to finish before we could get on the field. This was really unfortunate because there was a little girl named Megan playing in that game. And Megan had a dad.
“KICK IT, MEGAN! DON’T LET IT PASS YOU BY AGAIN! COME ON, WILL YOU MOVE IT?” he’d scream.
Then, just to make it all better:
“SWEETIE!”
This went on for 20 minutes. Uncoordinated Megan would run down the field tripping over her own feet while her dad screeched “helpful” advice to her in a voice that’s usually only heard on Arkansas pig farms.
“THAT’S IT, MEGAN! YOU’RE CLOSE TO IT NOW! OH, COME ON! STOP DAWDLING AND STOP BEING SO LAZY!”
“SWEETIE!”
Finally the game ended and poor Megan and her obnoxious dad left to go home where they probably spent the rest of the day yelling at the TV (dad) or filling out applications to spend the rest of their life in a cloistered convent in Newfoundland (Megan).
After they were gone, the rest of us started laughing about how Megan’s dad thought he could say whatever horrible thing he wanted to say if he just added “Sweetie” at the end.
“GET A GOAL OR YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO GO HUNGRY TONIGHT!” my husband yelled. “SWEETIE!”
“BLOCK THAT KICK OR I’M MAKING YOU SLEEP IN THE GARAGE ON TOP OF THE DOG POOP BAG!” said another parent. “HONEY CHILE!”
“RUN FASTER OR I’M PUTTING YOU OUT ON THE STREET AND THEN YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO STRIP FOR FOOD AND POSSIBLY DO A LITTLE TASTEFUL NUDE INTERNET MODELING UNTIL YOU DEVELOP A REALLY HORRIBLE METH ADDICTION AND ALL YOUR TEETH FALL OUT AND YOU GET GNARLY PIZZA SIZED PIMPLES ON YOUR ASS AND THEN YOU’LL PROBABLY FREEZE TO DEATH IN A WAL-MART MEAT LOCKER ALL ALONE EXCEPT FOR THE FROZEN RATS AND ILLEGAL BODY PARTS THE BUTCHER KEEPS THERE SO HE CAN MAKE A LITTLE EXTRA CASH ON THE SIDE TO SUPPORT HIS RAGING GAMBLING ADDICTION!” I added.
“SNUGGLE PUSS!”
For some reason, that’s when the fun ended and people started scooting their chairs away from me. But at least now I know that the next time I lose my temper because the garbage man has left trash on our lawn, it’ll be okay.
As long as I say “darling” after I flip him off and call him a waste management jackass.

I think I’ll put this into action starting today. I knew my kid would amount to something if I just was more involved in her life. “FINISH THAT HOMEWORK OR YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO WHORE YOURSELF FOR FOOD. SWEETIE PIE!”
Are you telling me people were actually sitting near you before that enchanting ditty? Have they learned nothing from past experience?
YOU’RE ALL A CRAZY BUNCH OF NUTJOBS FOR SITTING SO CLOSE TO FANILOW SO KEEP AWAY NEXT TIME YOU ID … SWEETPEAS!
So glad I don’t have to go to the neighborhood soccer games anymore. Those suburban parents can be rather scary. I have a feeling hockey might be even worse.
I believe that is also a legitimate tactic in court. “Yeah. I screamed that I would see him dead your honour but it can’t of been me who done it because I called him sweet cheeks afterwards.
And in the south you can get away with saying the nastiest things about someone as long as you follow it up with “Bless her heart.”
Like – Wendi is the biggest slut for Barry Manilow, bless her heart.
All this means is that you have a WAY better imagination. Not everybody can add that to their resume.
Proving again, you’ve done some hard living. You’ve seen things no woman should see. You’re from the street. You are well acquainted with “the life.”
Or
Proving again you watch a lot of Law & Order SVU.
I know, I know. I think crazy things but have grown too tired to say them.
The beauty of aging…the mind is willing, but the flesh is weak.
I’m almost wishing my kids played soccer right now.
I wonder why they moved away from you… hahahaha…
You must have seen & experienced quite a lot in your life huh…
good one 🙂
That’s the way I speak to my husband but I add “honey” on the end. So, I think it’s a fine way to communicate with one’s spouse but not one’s children. In case you were curious as to my humble opinion.
Woot! Thanks to soccer dad of the year, I can finally tell tell my unmotivated 14 year old couch commando to take the garbage out with the proper mix of motivation and love. Dude should write a book.
I don’t think you’ve ever met my husband or our daughter, Megan before. I couldn’t be at the soccer game this week. Thanks for sharing the details. Sweetie. 🙂
That’s just like how you can call someone a Bitch as long as you call them skinny in the same sentence.
“You skinny two faced bitch!” “Oh my god I’m SKINNY!?!?!”
Gawd, he sounds worse than my sister’s baseball coach was last year. At least he put a “SWEETIE” at the end of everything though.
Coach P. makes that man look like an evil little ho, bless his heart (said with a slight drawl and exaggerate the heart to heaaaart).
Brought it.
(love this one)
It’s probably good I wasn’t sitting near Megan’s dad or I’d have had to say “Sorry my foot got stuck so far up your ass! Sweet cheeks!”
My late father once dumped a full, ice-laden Coke onto the head and lap of a middle-aged horndog making definitely inappropriate comments about a 15-year-old cheerleader at a football game. (His wife, who had that Valiumed look so pervasive to upper middle-class women in the late ’60’s, smiled at my dad.) I could not show such restraint with Megan’s father. I would have to rip out his liver and broil it, and there would be no endearments, either.
How did you know dying in a Walmart meat locker is my worst nightmare?? Monkey nuts!
Megans dad would have hated being Erin’s dad since I was the kid yelling from the field – as the action passed me by – ‘Ma, are we going out for dinner after this?’
If you made Stop Dawdling and Stop Being So Lazy T-shirts, I’d totally be asking for one for Christmas.
I’m thinking it was the Suggle Puss that made the people move away from you. BTW – did you say that all in ONE breath? Cuz if you did – I now BOW DOWN to you!!!
You have stumbled upon one of the great realities, Wendi: that you can say anything by backing it up with a sweet little nugget. Like on HBO’s Cat House, for instance, I bet the head guy gets pissed at the new girls and follows it with Sugar Tits. You know.
Poor Megan. She’ll probably be a crackwhore now, she’ll go by the name “Sweetie.”
Ditto-ing Hokgardner with the “bless her heart.” One of the funniest (and most fun) things about all the idiosyncracies of the South. My mom and sisters and I crack each other up every time we say it–it is SUCH a getouttajailfree card.
I had a conversation with a baseball umpire once and he said, of all the age levels of sports he has worked, the parents of 9 year olds seem to be the most crazy. Who knew?
What Hokgardner said.
Where was this juicy bit of advice when I was teaching?!
I can’t imagine why your son hid the past six progress reports that indicated he was failing, honey. Maybe he hid it from you so I can give you the bad news, bless his heart. Now he will loose credit because it’s too late in the semester, sweetie.
Ain’t it the truth?
snuggle puss?! i need to get more creative with my pet names.
IF YOU DON’T BLOCK THE BALL THIS TIME, I SWEAR TO GOD THAT THE THUMB SCREWS ARE A-COMIN’ OUT AND I WILL DRINK THE SWEET AMBROSIA OF YOUR TEARS WITH VODKA AND A TWIST OF LIME!
SUGAR PLUM!
Reminds me of the people that say things like “She is such a fucking bitch…bless her heart!”
You make me laugh everytime I read one of your posts!
Clearly this dad needs to learn how to use “bless your heart” correctly. Or maybe that skill is genetic and he’s just an asshole. Sweetie!