The Matron has a neighbor who routinely uses the term "hissy fit" whenever her daughters make a fuss. The Matron likes the neighbor but does not much care for the phrase.
But today she considering having one.
Stryker is a middling baseball player. For the past couple of years, his Little League coaches have dutifully rotated the line-up and given each player equal field time. By the end of the season, our guy is usually more solid than not. He learns. These coaches have yelled: "Good eye, Stryker" and "You ca do it!" When he struck out, they slapped him kindly on the back and said that he looked sharp anyway.
This season, when Stryker hasn't cooled his heels on the bench, he's played right field. Exclusively. And when he missed two balls tonight, the coach pulled him aside and sneered: "What? They grease those balls now?"
Maybe he meant to be light-hearted, jovial, cheery in the face of failure?
But that's not how the words fell.
So the Matron would like to stomp her feet and scream at this meanie!
Because she's on the Parkway Little League Board, she would like to talk to her friend--The Board President - and complain. She would like to tell that coach to treat her child better.
She is doing none of the above.
Instead, she is helping her son deal with his disappointment---with his coach and his own performance. Because one day the unfair person? Might be a professor or employer or even, parent.
But now she understands the sensibility of the 'hissy fit' a wee bit better. And knows she is not the type to throw one.