Every time I’m upset, I clutch a framed photo of half-nekkid van Nistelrooy I keep under my pillows and cry my eyes out.
Last night, as I watched beloved Manchester United crash to a humiliating away loss 1-4 to Middlesborough, I stormed straight into my room to pull out the photo… only to find it wasn’t there.
My upset turned into steaming anger in a split second, and I screamed. Never mind that it was 2 in the fucking AM. I picked up the phone.
“MA!! WHERE IS THE PHOTO I KEEP UNDER MY PILLOW?!”
Because she had my sheets changed without my permission. I told her time and again never to let anyone change my sheets, especially when the van Nistelrooy sheet set is used. As for the photo? She threw it away. Oh my gawd, SHE THREW AWAY MY FRAMED PHOTO OF MY DARLING?!
I’m not as shocked as I should be, because of the things she said after, when I frantically retrieved the photo from the pile of newspapers in was placed with, meant for the garbage can.
“I didn’t think you wanted that.”
Dude, I keep it under my pillow. And it’s framed. Of course I want it. Jeebus.
“Why are you so into that stupid game?”
It ain’t stupid to me.
“Girls shouldn’t like football.”
She threw out my van Nistelrooy photo, and decides to take a swipe at a sport I enjoy? Oh, I know in her mind she would love to tear down all my Manchester United posters and pennants; smash the beer mug and coffee cups; burn Ruud Bear, scarf, sublimation flag, bedsheets, books and hero jerseys; but she wouldn’t dare, not since I’ve gotten older, stronger and smarter with collateral.
After talking to Haz, I spent the night clutching the photo, trying to forget the awful things I heard. I’d rather live with the humiliating loss than remember that.