...since I played softball. I didn't like it. I had performance anxiety when I had to bat.
...I played baseball last night, moms against the sons on his coach pitch team, and I felt that same performance anxiety.
...but some of it came about when the 6 yr old voice in the back seat started trash talking before we even got there.
...but I surprised myself. I hit the ball on the first pitch both times!
...and then my son laughed when HE helped get me out on second base!
...but I laughed back when I stopped a ball at shortstop and tagged his little cocky butt as he tried to run to third.
...and I realized that the moms were just as competitive as our offspring that were taunting us.
...but at the end of it, we still wanted them to win.
....and they did...
....and then we all ate pizza on the field. All was forgotten and forgiven!
...but I hope he files this memory away as one of the "good days" of his childhood because it was one day I won't soon forget. (And to think I wanted a daughter????)
*and on his fill in the blank Mother's Day card from school he wrote: My mom has pretty shoes. It brought a tear to my eyes. Of course he also wrote that I'm 70 lbs and 60 feet tall so maybe I shouldn't believe everything he says.
Close Encounters of the Caymanian Kind
18 hours ago