Take me out to the ballgame

I wanted to come home and relax tonight. It's been a rough week, and I pictured myself in my rocking chair reading or watching bad TV.

Jeff, on the other hand, pictured us at a baseball game.

When I picked up Biscuit from daycare, I figured I'd let him decide. And I was secretly hoping he'd say he didn't want to go. I was actually assuming he would. The last couple of times I've asked him about going to a game, he hasn't wanted to go.

But of course not tonight. "Sure, Mom," Biscuit said, "especially if we can go to the playground for a little while."

"Fine," I said. "We'll go to the ballgame."

In retrospect, I'm glad we went. It was a nice night (although the humidity was about 1,000%).

Biscuit got to spend some time on the playground. He sang "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," and he got two foul balls.

"Hey, boy," Jeff said. "Since you have two balls, why don't you take one to that little girl over there." 

He was talking about a girl about five rows down from us. Luckily, I was watching Biscuit because he drew his arm back with that ball in his hand. He had every intention of throwing that ball to the little girl.

"NO!" I said and scared Biscuit. "Don't throw it. You need to walk it down there."

While Biscuit was walking down the steps to give the little girl the ball, I kicked over my pocketbook, and Biscuit's other ball rolled out. I didn't realize it until Biscuit walked back and asked for it.

I looked at Jeff and mouthed the words, "The other ball is gone."

We started looking all around us, but we couldn't find it. I couldn't believe that Biscuit started with two foul balls, and now he had none.

One of the men behind us got up and started walking down the steps. After walking down about 10 steps, he walked into a row, reached down and grabbed the ball. I honestly thought he might keep it, but he brought it right back to Biscuit.

Biscuit thanked him, and the guy seemed pleased that he had helped out.

One of the men he was with said, "He might want to give that ball to Mom to hold onto."

I turned around and said, "Nope. Mom was the one who lost it to start with!"

Biscuit made it home with his ball. And I'm glad I gave in and went.