red-coated crusaders

I come from a long line of caped crusaders. Not that we're super heros or anything. But we fight.
When I was little, my great grandmother "Big Nonnie" gave me a dollar and sent me across the parking lot to the convenience store to buy her a half-gallon of milk. (She always put the milk in a plastic holder with a handle--I wonder what happened to all those handles, I could use one now for my milk!) I came back with the milk and the change. She asked me for the rest of the change. I told her that was all I had gotten. She went storming across the parking lot and went off on the clerk for ripping off her great-granddaughter. Everyone there that night (it must have been a Tuesday, that's when everyone went to Big Nonnie's house for tea and cookies) agreed that the clerk never would have ripped me off if he'd known who I was. As the only great-grandaughter, I was the special one (out of 7 great-grandchildren at that time--there are other girls in my generation now but they are all at least 20 years younger than me and I don't know them, nor did Big Nonnie ever know them.)

My grandmother (daughter of the crusading Big Nonnie) used to have this bright red coat and whenever she was pissed at someone she would put it on and confront them. It was called "putting on the red coat" and it was like a ritual. When she was angry, we'd say "grandma's going to put on her red coat!" meaning she was going to kick some ass. I remember her putting on the red coat to go to Macy's in New Haven but I can't remember what had gotten her angry at Macy's. For some reason the red coat thing really cracked up my grandfather.

I can't remember my mom ever kicking any ass like that, but I certainly inherited the ass-kicking gene from her mother and grandmother. I don't have a red coat but I do have the internet.

Ron Burchfield, I'm going to get you. Through legal means, I will bring you down. Refund my money NOW.