N skipped practice yesterday since he was babysitting, so when we got an email from his coach saying we were down to 8 players for our game, he was ready to get there and be a leader. His latest and greatest quest in life is to find an adult-ish wallet since he can't find the velcro Tony Hawk wallet that he lost...oh, two years ago or so.
I have been trying to explain to him how important it is to NOT buy things impulsively. Unfortunately, I also suck at this, even though I fully understand it in theory. That said, I thought I'd convinced him to wait until Sunday to go purchase a wallet. I was mistaken.
My mom came over after the ballgame (we won 7-6, but more on that in a minute), and when she left, N had his shoes on, ready to go. And he's persuasive.
So, he's now the proud owner of a "man" wallet. It's brown leather, and it isn't a tri-fold, so he thinks it's the best thing on the planet. And now he says he needs shorts with bigger pockets so it'll fit better.
It's always something.
SO. The game. N played first for the majority of the game and hit well. On his second at bat, however, he tripped over the first baseman who was blocking him, and slammed his knee into the ground. My heart dropped to the ground as I watched his face twist in pain and hobble toward the bench, calling for a pinch runner. I ran to grab some ice (not knowing they had an ice pack in the dugout already) and took it into the dugout, where N was icing his knee. I told him to elevate it, and he told me I was being dramatic. Dramatic is hobbling off the field, calling for a pinch runner, but whatever. We go with it. He played through the pain and caught for the last inning or so.
Meanwhile, there's a kid on the other team, a "J" who has played with us before...in the fall of 2012. While he was up to bat, he argued with the umpire about how he was calling the game. When the ump called him out, J told him, "You must be high on drugs or something."
Bad idea. The coach heard him and benched him, just as the ump walked over and said he intended to eject him. J threw his helmet, packed up his bag, and left the dugout. His dad was sitting in front of me and we'd been chatting throughout the game. J throws his stuff at his dad's feet and starts griping about how N stole his bat. Wait, what?! My N? I asked J what he was talking about and he seemed to think that N stole his bat 2 years ago, when the bat length was a good 3 inches shorter. I spoke up and asked him which bat he was talking about, then informed him (rather politely through clenched teeth) that I just purchased the bat in question earlier this year. His dad told him to shut up and that he was already in trouble. I told him that there were a lot of those bats this season, so I hoped he was able to find his.
And then I stared while he continued to blame N for the bat theft, I'm guessing since N was the only one on the other team he recognized? I have no idea. Some people...
So, we're spending the evening icing a knee and playing some Red Dead on Xbox. Because we're super awesome.
Aubs
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