My bro, sis-in-law, and 2 gorgeous-o nephews were able to do a drive-by visit in between their Florida vacation and Atlanta trip to see our newborn nephew. It only lasted about 7 hours but was a wonderful mid-week surprise. We took Big Sis out of school for half a day (only a week in and we're already taking her out...shame on us parents!) but because we get to see them maybe 3 times a year, it was a no-brainer.
Buster and I hit the backyard nearly everyday (for as long as the heat allows...sometimes 30 seconds) to practice baseball. The boy is passionate about his baseball. He wakes up and puts on his "uniform" every single day. His uniform consists of something with a number on it, Big Sis' soccer cleats, a belt and a hat. I pitch a million balls, giving unsolicited advice the whole time and he can't ever hit the darn thing. Yesterday, he goes out with his cousins (baseball extraordinaires) and they're back within four minutes telling me he had already hit 3 "home runs" (also known as "making contact with the ball").
WHAT??!!??
I quit. Forget the heat. I'm paying those boys to move down here (Buffalo Shmuffalo) and coach my boy. Then he can follow in their footsteps and find himself in Cooperstown one day. World Series here we come! Hopefully the officials there won't mind if Buster runs 4 laps around the bases for each of his home runs.
It's how he rolls. One lap for the point and 3 to gloat.
He's got my humility.
And my awesomeness.
They go hand in hand.
2 comments:
Your humility is one of your best traits.
But you already know that.
That Buster Boy just needed some fun with out the pressure! Or maybe he just needed some competition!
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