Well, last night marked a big night at our home - it was my daughter’s last t-ball game. For those of you who have not been inducted into the t-ball club, let me give you the Cliffs Notes version. T-ball is played by 5 & 6 year olds. In our city, there are approximately ten players on each team. When we go to a game, there are two innings. Each player bats. They can swing as many times as they want, there are no outs. We do not keep score. When the last batter is up, the umpire calls, “Last batter,” and the kid playing “pitcher” stands at home plate and tags any of the kids who were on base. When it is over the kids have absolutely no idea what they have done or who has won. It is INSANE!

My husband and father are vehemently against it (due to their competitive natures) and began “unofficially” keeping score during the second game. Needless to say, I was not sorry that the season was rounding to an end. All day long my daughter has gone on and on about how sad she was that the season was going to be over and how excited she was about her big game. At about 5:00 I went to her room to get out her uniform. It was gone!!! I couldn’t find it anywhere!!!  After fifteen minutes searching (with her pacing along behind me), I called my husband who was on a business trip in Miami. “Do you have any idea where her uniform is???” I shrieked into the phone. “Yes, it is in the trunk of your car,” he answered calmly. “But you drove my car to the AIRPORT!” I screamed (the airport is three hours away). “Hmmmm,” was his reply.

So I pasted on a fake toothy grin and called my daughter to the room. I asked her if she’d like to go eat pizza and go swimming tonight. “What about my game?” she replied suspiciously. “Um, your-uniform-is-in-the-car-at-the-airport-so-you-aren’t-going-to-play,” I rattled off as quickly as possible. “Thank goodness,” she answered, “I am so tired of pretending to have fun!” Then she skipped out of the room.

Well my spring 2010 just became wide open!