This is how my kids like to "help" me. Nothing makes unloading the dishwasher easier than a baby who keeps climbing into it. Yep, she's almost as helpful as my three year old who likes to throw clean, folded laundry on the floor for me to fold yet again. And again. And again. Whatever would I do without these guys?
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So, we had softball again today. We were up by one. It was the bottom of the sixth inning (they only play six innings). The other team was up to bat. The tying run was on third and bases were loaded. They had two outs. The girl up to bat had a full count. Not too much pressure, right? She struck out and we won. Funny, how I say "we" won like I was out there playing. In fact, had I been out there playing, I'm quite certain we would've lost.
Anyway, this poor girl struck out. Although I feel awful for any kid who gets stuck in that position, I was secretly thanking God that it wasn't my daughter who got the last out. My kids are screwed up enough. I can only imagine, twenty years from now, one of my kids mumbling to their psychiatrist, "If only I'd hit that ball twenty years ago...."
When the game was over, I stood up and cheered, so happy that my daughter's team had won until I realized that meant they'd have yet another play off game. Is it wrong to want baseball season to be over already? I remember when it started back in April. Way back then, we wore winter coats, hats, and gloves. We brought thermoses of hot chocolate to the games and bundled up under big blankets. We went from that weather to 140 degrees in the shade overnight. Gotta love IL.
