Rita's Reflections: Tattlers are an irritating reminder someone is watching
Horsing around broke the boredom of farm work. One day, working on the Fleig farm, a girl kept tossing tomatoes at me. I was a bit cranky working in the hot sun. I warned the girl if she didn’t stop, I would hit her between the eyes with a tomato. She didn’t stop.
Before a knee injury playing softball sent me to the outfield, I was a decent catcher. It was as if the girl had a bullseye on her forehead and it landed right where I said it would. In my lame defense it was a very small green tomato about the size of a ping pong ball. It stung, but she wasn’t hurt.
The girl's mother came down to the farm the next day to get to the bottom of things. I was curious what story the girl told her mom. Turns out it didn’t matter. Mom was there and witnessed the entire exchange the day before. Mom spoke the truth that her daughter was duly warned and the situation could have been avoided.
The girl tested my patience more than once. Today, we might file that under mini gaslighting. I was standing my ground and defending my personal space. In hindsight, we both could have chosen to do things differently. She should have stopped throwing tomatoes when I asked. And I should have whipped a bunch of stinky, rotten tomatoes at her. She would have smelled putrid!
The girl came from a great family. She grew up to be a great gal with a family of her own. Perhaps on another day, I would have brought out my normally playful side. Instead of my leave-me-alone attitude.
Tattlers can be so irritating. Here is my experience with three sneaky accomplices.
In second grade, a little bird kept squealing on me. Mom actually used that expression, "A little bird told me, you….” Mom had never lied to me. There had to be a real bird involved. As a Looney Tunes nut, I pictured Tweety Bird. I had no idea at that age that a real bird was not actually tattling on me. After all, I had heard birds talk before. You know, “Polly is sick of crackers.” Squawk. “Let me out of this cage.” I figured it was a safe bet a real live Tweety was hiding somewhere watching my every move. Perhaps, I was little stinker at times. I really don't remember that part.
For those not familiar with Sylvester and Tweety, they were longtime rivals. Tweety is a yellow canary and a bird genius. Tweety outsmarts Sylvester the big, black cat in every episode. The episodes have a David vs. Goliath vibe: The bigger they are, the harder they fall. I love those. Especially when they involve someone who has been underestimated for too long.
Years ago, in recognition of my admiration of Tweety Bird, I cross-stitched a bright yellow Tweety on the back of a jean jacket. Someone told me I should have picked a tougher looking character to emulate. Are you kidding? Tweety is tough! Sylvester the big, black cat never won a contest against itty, bitty Tweety. Size does not always equate strength. It’s just as important to be strong in spirit, conviction and determination. After all dynamite comes in a small package and can pack a powerful punch. Kaboom!
The tattlers were a threesome: Mom, my aunt and my second-grade teacher. It didn’t seem fair at the time and it was definitely sneaky. But now I realize I was lucky. I had a small village looking out for me. Maybe just thinking someone was always watching me gave me the notion I better toe the line. Most of the time, anyway.
Rita Wyatt Zorn is a wife, mother, grandmother and lifetime Monroe County resident. She can be reached at 7.noniez@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on The Daily Telegram: Rita Wyatt Zorn: Tattlers an irritating reminder someone is watching
