Monday, June 29, 2009

Baseball is not for wimps

We spent all day Saturday at the ballpark for my son Ryan's baseball minor league tournament. It was cloudy, windy and rainy, and I still managed to get fried (skin - not brain). Playing out a scene that happens everytime Ryan meets up with friends, he ran over to me between games asking if his friend CJ could spend the night. Before I could answer, he also informs me that CJ's 4 year old little brother would need to come with him. Say what???

ME: Are you referring to BJ (beelzebub junior), the little maniac that spilled blue rasberry snowcone all over my white shorts; the little angel that deliberately threw his baseball into the field during play causing much confusion and stoppage of the game; the sweet boy that was using the water fountain to fill up the front of his pants and then sat so close to me that I am now blue and wet; the child that walked up to a stroller of a sleeping baby and started shaking it violently so the baby would wake up and play with him; the same boy who was in very close proximity to a dog that was whimpering and yelping whereupon boy claims to not know why dog is acting so wierd; the little monster who has both parents here somewhere that have neither scolded him or kept track of him - are you referring to that little brother?

RYAN: I can they stay?

ME: ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MIND?......curious, why does CJ have to bring his little brother?

RYAN: 'cause his parents want to go out and they can't find a babysitter for BJ

ME: shocking

RYAN: Mom, so why can't they (in whiny,pathetic tone)

ME: ...................................................(incredulous silence)