Tag Archives: hockey mom

NFred’s Delicious Little Secret.

I couldn’t quite place her, but I knew that she looked familiar.

It was at my son’s hockey evaluations a few weeks ago. She was registering the kids as they arrived at the arena.

“What’s your name, Honey”, she asked my son. He answered and she sweetly told him which dressing room to use and wished him good luck.

As I sat shivering  in the stands, watching my son play, it suddenly came to me.

IT WAS HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

A few years ago while working at The Toy Shop, I had a customer who was very upset with the quality of our free gift wrapping service. I remember that she bought an item and asked to have it wrapped. As I was removing the price tags, she went off on an unprovoked rant about how poorly wrapped her previous purchase had been and that she had to redo the whole thing HERSELF in her car because she was too embarrassed to give such a horrible looking gift. I apologised and took extra care to fluff the tissue and curl the ribbon to perfection. When I asked her if it looked okay, she rolled her eyes, snatched the bag from my hands and said, “I’ll do it myself” before storming out of the store.

It was one of the most perplexing customer interactions I’ve ever had in my entire retail career. How could someone be so upset about a totally optional and completey FREE service?

I sat there in the stands, my butt frozen and fingers numb and I smiled. As if this was the same woman who just called my son “Honey”! What I delicious little secret I had.

And the best part?

I’ve seen her on a weekly basis at the rink ever since.

 

Needless to say, I’ve been a little guarded in my interactions with her. I’m cautiously waiting for her inner asshat to escape.

In all fairness, I don’t know this woman. She could lead a very difficult life. But there’s just something about people who aren’t cordial to those in customer service jobs. Your server, cashier, the person that pumps your gas are all paid to help you in one way or another. However, being outlets for your misplaced anger is NOT part of their job description.

Anyhoo, it’s going to be an interesting hockey season to say the least! Last week I made sure to wear my staff shirt to see if she’d say anything, but no dice.

Who knows, maybe we’ll become friends and one day we’ll laugh about her inner asshat?!?!!? It’s not likely, but you never know….life is full of surprises…

Thanks for reading,

NFred.

 

 

 

 

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Paragraph # 22: Get Your Shit Together, Hockey Mom!

hockey mom

 

Dear Hockey Mom,

PLEASE get your shit together.

No, it’s not the coach’s job to tell your son that the six-thirty in the morning practices are cancelled because you think it’s too early. You ask him EVERY time to lie to your son in a voice so loud that EVERYONE in the dressing room hears you. It’s obnoxious and you come off as a total asshat.

Why did you even sign your kid up for hockey? You knew what you were getting yourself into. I know this because you talk about your other sons ALL THE TIME to anyone within earshot.

I’ve heard it countless times. They play competitive hockey and they’re super talented and they poop solid gold. Your life is busy. You work full time, you go to school, you have three kids. You love the sound of your own voice more than I love drinking beer. And everything that comes out of your mouth is negative. You should really think about buying the rights to the phrase “it’s not fair”.

I hate when you sit near me at hockey. Listening to the way you talk about your youngest son makes me sick. You constantly put him down. Maybe you think it’s funny but I think it’s disgusting.

You give all the supportive, nurturing, sane hockey moms out there a bad name.

It’s getting increasingly more difficult to keep my lips zipped when you’re running your mouth. I go to hockey to watch my kid and cheer on his team, not to listen to your crap. I feel like you’re taking  some of the fun away from the parents who actually WANT to be in an arena at six-thirty in the morning, watching their kids do what they love.

So PLEASE, I urge you, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.

Yours truly,

NFred.

 

 

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