Well, we talked our son in to playing baseball one more year. Why? I have no idea. He didn't want to. Not at all. The up side? Pitching machine, baby. The down side? Actual outs. 3 of them. We had to play the parental game of "eat your veggies and learn to be out with grace" vs. "dear god, this is going to be more painful for us to live through if it sucks." We went with the veggies hoping that the allure of the pitching machine outlasts the pain of striking out. I am sure there will be more posts on this decision -right or wrong- in the future but in the mean time, I have to go dust off the crockpot. And buy a cup.
Yup. A cup. Can you say "athletic supporter" and not mean "fan in the stand"? I knew you could. Honestly, it's kind of freaking me out. I am guessing I am going to TOTALLY wimp out and send my husband for one in the way that I will have to field all the feminine hygiene products for our daughter. And really, I am totally cool with that.
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