baseball

This one's for my ddh, Eric.

Guess what, Honey?
Trev wanted to play baseball today.I thought... "Sure, why not?"

Maddie's sleepin', we're out here (I'm doing calendars), he's on the tramp, and he asked "Okay, Mom, wanna play now?"
"Sure!"
He pitched a few, and I managed to hit all of them. I tried to have good form, and not sock him with my oh-so-powerful hits (with the plastic hollow ball).
Pretty soon he was eager to have a go at it.

I threw a pitch....
and....
... miss!
"Oh!!! I'm terrible at this game!! I'm Never going to be Any Good! Oooohh," (though he didn't put the back of his hand to his forehead, I half expected it, so dramatic was this scene, as You can Well Imagine, "this is No Good! I give up!!"
"After one pitch?" I asked quite bemused (and perhaps a bit disappointed, though I tried not to show it.)
I let it be known that I was on teams when I was six, seven, and eight, and that I won trophies. But that even though I was on a team, I was never really very good. And that I've had loads of practice, and it's only now that I can be deemed as Most Magnificent.

He decided to try again.
It's a hit!!
Only his second try was a hit!
He was so happy!!(and so was I.)

We kept going, and he has had several more hits (and misses, too).Eventually I tell him of the chatter of the outfielders and of the opposing team waiting on the bench - singing songs of "Heeeeeeey, Batterbatterbatterbatter, Heeeeeeeeeey, Batterbatterbatterbatter, Heeeeeeeeeey, Batterbatterbatterbatter - Swing!"
Actually, he seemed to thrive on that, and made several connections with the ball.We have had several innings (and a couple of time-outs, also, such as now) and he is always eager to "have another game."

I tossed a couple of lousy pitches to him, and said so ("Woh! That was a lousy pitch!) and after he saw that I was not making fun of him, but judging my own efforts, he was able to call a couple of his own "lousy!" as well.
We discussed strikes. We discussed "walking", after he nailed me with his pitch.
He hit once, and the ball went behind him, and he wanted to know what That was called.
"A foul ball!" said I (with further explanation).

What a grand time we've had!
Darling Husband - I think our Little Boy is growing up.