It was a baseball kind of weekend around here. In fact, pretty much all we did was watch boys play baseball. And drive back and forth to games. Devin's travel ball team played in their very first tournament Saturday and Sunday which was also our very first experience with travel ball.
Y'all. These people are serious about their baseball. I'm talking dead serious. I knew we were in trouble Saturday morning as we watched the other coach warm up his players, shouting orders and pumping them up as if they were about to march into battle and fight for their very lives and most importantly, their very right to play baseball.
The second game didn't go a whole lot better and I felt somewhat bad about having to cut out before it was over in order to hightail it back home for Dracen's practice at three. Devin came rolling in with Popaw before the practice was over, got out of the truck and plopped down on the ground beside me, looking whooped and shell shocked and complaining that his arm was hurt.
Then he came home and injured his foot by trying to take out his frustrations on a wasp with his tennis racket after Charlie whooped him in a game of tennis. It was not his day, bless his heart, which is why I suspect the foot "injury" hurt so much. He went to bed Saturday night hopping on it and saying he was pretty sure it was broken. I was pretty sure it was not.
Turns out I was right, as I so often am about these sort of things, because when I answered the phone Sunday morning to Popaw asking me how his arm was and told him (with Devin standing there in front of me) that I thought the arm was going to be fine but that he was still hopping around on a hurt foot, he immediately said he thought he would be fine once he had a cleat on it. And that was the end of that. Amazing what those cleats can do.
When we pulled up at the ball field I realized real quick that I messed up by not bringing myself a sweater or jacket because although it was supposed to get up into the upper 70s again later, it was darn right chilly yet in a short sleeved t-shirt. I thought maybe some coffee would help warm me up so Charlie headed up to the concession stands and barely made it back alive, almost getting taken out by a stray baseball, as he tried to inch his way very carefully back to our chairs without spilling every last drop of the two hot coffees.
The lady beside me saw me holding the cup away from me since it was dripping with coffee and quickly gave me a napkin before Charlie had time to dig anything out of his backpack and said, "You don't want that coffee all over those white pants!" No, no I most certainly do not. Thank you so much for noticing.
I got the cup all cleaned up and began sipping as fast as I could in an effort to warm my blood a little but I was still shivering so Charlie dug out his rain poncho to see if that would help and as I attempted to get up out of my chair to wrap it around me, the carefully placed coffee sloshed out of the drink holder, into the chair and all over the side of my right butt cheek. The right butt cheek that was wearing the white capri pants.
I jumped up and began assessing the damage by looking over and down my right shoulder as Charlie fished out a blue bandanna for me to wipe up the excess. I began to frantically blot and wipe the area and as I did so the nice lady that had given me the napkin said, "Aww, you did it anyway!" Yes, yes I sure did. Because I'm all suave like that. Thank you so much for noticing.
I sat my tail back down in Charlie's dry chair because he's a gentleman and a scholar and quickly offered it over to me. And I knew at that point that there was nothing more I could do for myself than to just suck it up and own that light brown stain on the side of my right arse cheek for the entire rest of the day.
Hold my head up and own it like I just don't care.
So that's what I did.
As for our boys?
Well, the shell shock from Saturday apparently wore off since they came back from the dead, got serious about their baseball and finished the day off with a big win.
And miraculously enough, we never heard another peep out of the hurt arm or the broken foot.