Spoiler Alert for Mr. Always Random & Usually Shallow: Do NOT proceed with reading this post if you don’t want to suspect what MAY have been purchased for you by the PBA.
The PBA and I were shopping today for their dad’s (who is also known as my husband’s) Christmas gift. They had an idea of what they wanted to spend and also what they wanted to buy.
First we went to Penney’s…which used to have a variety of NFL Team stuff…maybe not much of each team, but at least more than Colts. Granted, I understand WHY they would have lots of Colts stuff, given that the local market demands it…but we are not ALL Colts fans. SOME of us like Steelers and/or Packers.
Don’t ask me to go into all that…it’s more than I care to.
Well, ok, if you insist. My husband has always lived in the area, and as a child, as now, he loved/loves football. In the 70’s, there was no NFL team nearby, so most kids were either Browns or Bears fans. But not Mr. Always Random and Usually Shallow…he chose a WINNING team: the Pittsburgh Steelers. The Steel Curtain. You know…all that business. They were really good…consistently good…in the 70’s. And if he’s anything, Mr. Always Random and Usually Shallow is loyal…so even though the Steelers haven’t always been good, they are his team.
The Packers fan…it’s a different situation entirely. My husband had a good run of about 2 years with the youngest member of the PBA. He was able to brain-wash, I mean coax/encourage/train the now-9yo to cheer for the Steelers, until the 9yo turned 4. It was at that point he learned of Brett Favre, #4 (my son’s then-age) on this team which had a big letter “G” on their helmets. And “G” happens to be the first letter of my 9yo’s name.
It was the perfect storm, for sure, and so he thought The Pack must be his team. So for the past few years, we have had this rivalry going on in our house. The SuperBowl was lots of fun in our house a couple years ago when the Steelers played the Pack.
We even got a very festive cake for the occasion…and no, I did not make it. The Crossover ceremony for Cub Scouts had been the night before the SuperBowl and as a fundraiser for the scouts, there is always a cake auction…and this cake was one of the entries. How fortuitous, right?
It was very tasty to boot. But I digress…I think I was talking about my husband’s Christmas present from the PBA, wasn’t I?
So we went to the mall and checked for Steeler hats at Penney’s…but all they had was Colts paraphernalia. So we went to Lids…which wasn’t quite open yet. In fact, it wasn’t open at all…the cage was still closed and locked. No matter…my 9yo was quick to inform me that Daddy said he didn’t like their hats anyway…ok, that’s news to me. Glad the two of you talked.
Then we progressed to Sport Fanatics…which I was very impressed that my 9yo had told me before we went in the mall that the place where he saw a hat for Daddy was next to GameStop. And don’t you know…it was? It’s the PBA’s memory for things like that which makes me take them to places like the mall and grocery…I can’t ever seem to remember where I park the car, but they always do. They know which door we came in and where the car is parked. And typically what kind of car is (or at least was) next to it.
I would still be wandering around the mall parking lot if it were not for them. Again, I digress.
So we went in Sports Fanatics…and my 9yo went straight for a hat he thought Daddy would like. He was right…Daddy would like that hat. Unfortunately, it was not the right size. And there was only one left. It was a semi-adjustable…which meant we had to get in the right range. The size of this hat was Medium-Large.
I pointed out the size to the PBA and all I received in return were a couple of blank stares and mouths agape (meaning slack-jawed, not love).
I had been hoping they would understand what I meant without further explanation but clearly that wasn’t going to be the case. So I continued, “Yeah, that size isn’t going to work for Daddy.”
Still blank stares.
“Yeah, Daddy’s kinda got a big head…we need a size Large-Extra-Large”. In case anyone is interested, they did have that size available in some hats, but not in this particular one.
“Oh…” and the 9yo put the hat back on the rack, hanging his head in disappointment.
“Buddy, you are exactly right…Daddy would love this hat but we have to get one for him that will fit his head, right?”
“Yeah, I know…”
“We’ll keep looking…I know we’ll find something else.”
So we scanned the area…again, not as many Steelers hats as Colts, but at least there was a semblance of a selection. We glanced around the rest of the store to see if anything else caught our eye, and then made another pass by the hats on the way out, just in case there was one we had missed.
Clearly the 11yo had been considering the earlier conversation about his father’s head because he then said, on the way out of the store, “He must have a really big brain.”
“Yes, he must,” I responded, thinking about when he, himself, was an infant with a 50th percentile body and a 90th percentile head, and the pediatrician said to me, “Yes, he’s still gaining that knowledge, isn’t he?”
As a side note, I am thankful for c-sections.
My 11yo, however, wasn’t entirely finished with his thought, because he continued, “Either that or he’s like a stegosaurus who has a big head and a brain the size of a walnut.”
Let’s just assume it’s option #1, shall we?