A Side of Rice

Hopefully Humorous (and sometimes R-rated) Musings About Life

No Runs. No Hits. No Mother.

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This Saturday is the annual Opening Day for the GVAA little league for our sons.  The little kids in tee ball, machine pitch and the minors love it – they get to stand on the “big boy” field and wave their caps to all the parents and grandparents as their team name is called.  The tweens enjoy it because they can shove, wedgie, wet willy and sucker punch one another in a group cluster where no one can really determine who started it. And the teens endure it cuz there might be some hot sisters of their fellow teammates milling about.

Now, I’m what you would call a big supporter. Some might say I go a little too far. I do things like buy sparkly iron-ons and wear them in public, to support my boys.

Mom's sparkly breasted salute to her baseball stars

A sparkly-breasted salute to my baseball stars

When it comes to kids playing, having a good time, developing team camaraderie (that doesn’t involve wedgies), learning some skills and being the responsibility of someone other than me getting playing tips from their coach for a few hours? Count me in.

And I really like the moms and dads of the other kids on the teams.  They are a pretty cool bunch. If they are willing to overlook my flaws (cussing ad nauseum), I am willing to overlook a few things too (I may have said to some well-intentioned, holier-than-me individuals,  “I appreciate your efforts to save my heathen soul, but…really…for the last time…I’m not accepting anyone as my savior unless they arrive in the Publisher’s Clearing House van holding a very large check with my name on it.”).

But this year, Opening Day will be different for me.  I will be spending it — not (as you might suspect) in the 8th circle of hell (aka concession stand duty). Nope. I’ll be in Louisville, KY. (Editor’s note: go Cards, my son Nick has you winning it all in his bracket this year!)

My new job duties require me to attend a conference in Louisville this weekend. So this is the first Opening Day — in the 6 years Alex and Nick have been playing — that I will miss.

Nick - ready for tee ball. Which seems like a million years ago now. Not 6 years.

Nick – ready for tee ball in 2007. Which seems like a million years ago now. Not a mere 6 years.

Each year I’ve gotten Opening Day pictures of our boys. Like this one from last year.

Was this only a year ago?

It looks like Nick is giving his brother a wedgie. But he’s not. Maybe.

This year, I’m relying on my husband to get the Opening Day picture.  Which I’m sure he’s going to enjoy being responsible for, in addition to carting the boys to the Opening Day ceremony, keeping the team he coaches from partaking in too many wet willies, and then getting both boys to their games. It would be so much easier if his wife didn’t have to be out of town on business this weekend.

For me, it’s no runs or hits this weekend. Let’s hope there’s no error in securing an Opening Day photo.

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Author: A Side of Rice

Married, mom, marketing professional. Loves swearing, pedicures and celebrity meltdowns. Hates making dinner and working the little league concession stand.

One thought on “No Runs. No Hits. No Mother.

  1. Pingback: Real Super Heroes: Honorary Bat Girls | A Side of Rice

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