Just played my last tennis match o’ the summer season the other night.
And? I WON! And of course when I say “I”, I mean my doubles partner and I (Howdy, Pardner! ;-).
What’s my reason for winning THIS time, you ask? Last time it was because I was playing against hypoglycemic-attackopolis. And the time before that it was because I was playing against drunkypoo-botoxorama.
It couldn’t be that I won simply because I’m….GOOD*?! No?!? I gotta have an EXCUSE as to why I won?!??
Ok. Well. There IS a reason. Originally I didn’t want to mention it because it makes me sound a little mentally unstable. But here goes: the truth is that we played against the Fairy Godmothers from Cinderella.
See? It sounds wacky, but it’s totally true.
For the sake of argument, we’ll call them Fauna and Merriweather. Now, Fauna and Merriweather didn’t bring their tiny wings and wands to this particular match (which was their own dumb fault ’cause those woulda come in super-handy for winning). Instead they brought their sweet, motherly faces and encouraging attitudes. But I knew who they were all the same, which made me feel REALLY bad when I would slam the ball at their feet. (Hey! My pro told me to do it. And I alllllways do what my pro tells me to do. Right, Pro? Hi, Pro! 😉
They coulda trotted out their mad fairy skillzzzz at any point during the match and evened things up a bit. (Actually…they did even things up at one point sans fairy power which kinda had me panicked because I was gonna be DIPPED if I lost to FAIRY GODMOTHERS! So Pardner and I poured on a little of our own “magic” and got ‘er done.)
Afterwards, during party time, neither godmother held the win against us and continued to be just as chatty and genial as ever. In fact, Fauna even plopped a big scoop of her homemade-chicken-salad-with-tarragon on our snack plates (without us even having to ask for it – she just KNEW we wanted some!) while Merriweather plied us with pink wine. (Come on! PINK WINE?!? You guys see what I’m talking about, right? It’s not just me, right??! They were very CLEARLY Fairy Godmothers, RIGHT?!??)
Now. Let’s just pause right here. And get something clear among ourselves. If you want to play tennis in the countryclub league, you have to be like one of those strange creatures straight out of Greek Mythology. Not necessarily magical. Or a sweet, motherly fairy. Fauna and Merriweather went above and beyond the call of duty on that one. What I’m talking about here are those creatures that are half one thing and half something else – like a Harpie for instance (oooh – no reason I chose that creature. Just an example. If you read anything more into it then maybe that’s YOUR problem). A harpie is half woman, half bird.
‘Cept in the tennis countryclub league you have to be half athlete half social-drinker-bordering-on-party-animal. You KNOW what I’m talking about, Tennis Peeps. Don’t act like you don’t! And it was during this particular post-match sorority social with these particular tennis harpies that the topic of everyone’s age came up. My mouth was full of chicken salad, so I didn’t get involved. But honestly, everyone else went around the table shouting out ages like they were counting off for gym class. It was way-wacky. But it turns out Fauna is several years younger than I am while Merriweather is a few years younger than Pardner.
Huh??! Well that’s weird. I could have SWORN these women were much older than us. Turns out – WE were the older ones! In which case, forget all that crazy rambling about Fairy Godmothers. Skip it! And zip it. I don’t wanna hear how that made me sound insane (for just a sec, though). Turns out I might actually be a good-or-at-least-not-half-bad tennis player who drank too much pink wine. And now the party’s over. At least until next season.
*Wellllll, “good” might be a strong word. How’s about “better” ’cause really when you think about where I started, there was nowhere else to go but UP!
Good thing Sister #1 was not there when the ages were being shouted out after the match. She might have gone all classic Greek harpie on those fairies and then they would have needed that snazzy pink wine for pouring on their wounds.
Also good to know we are all past the age of the fairy godmothers. I’m going to work on my sweet motherly face, I am sure the kids will appreciate the effort. If not, I will hit them with my wand.