Ingrained

LaVor went to a "Man Shower" yesterday (co-worker's wife had her baby shower so the men got together), leaving The Lime and I to fend for ourselves.  After getting a much needed haircut for the little guy, he wanted to show it off to my parents, so off we went.

They live across the street from an elementary school and every time we drive by it, The Lime asks if we can play on the playground.  I remind him that we can go when school is out or on the weekends and since yesterday was Saturday, he was in luck.

We shot a few baskets into the "just his size" basketball hoop and he and I played fireman on the playground, with baseball bats as our water hoses.  My mom was the dispatcher and told us where the fires were.  We have quite the imagination.

The sun was hot and The Lime wanted to play baseball so I suggested we go back to the house and play under the shade of the trees.  We each took turns being the catcher, batter, and pitcher.  When The Lime got up to bat, my mom said, "Oh, you can tell you watch A LOT of baseball!"  The Lime takes his practice swings, taps the bat on the ground, does a little Coco Crisp shake, and is ready for the pitch.  It's cute.

We're lucky enough to live across the street from a huge sports complex, baseball fields included.  So when we need some cheap entertainment, we head over and watch some games.  We took our dessert with us last night and ended up watching the game where both teams were wearing blue (I wonder why?).  It didn't take long before The Lime was out of his seat, pretending to be the umpire and writing things in the dirt.

Two things I've noticed since we started going to some games are 1) there is this little toy that EVERY kid has at every game we go to.  It's hilarious.  And 2) the moms get super dolled up, as in high heels, bedazzled everything, make-up, hair perfect, you name it.  I will be the oddball in two years when The Lime can start playing.

When it was time to head back home and get ready for bed, The Lime ran in the opposite direction to check out the older boys' game.  He was watching every move the umpire made and I had to pry him away from the fence.

It kills him that he can't play baseball on Sundays but in the middle of Sacrament meeting, I looked over and saw him kneeling down, hunched over, with his arm straight out (like he was wearing his glove), ready to catch the imaginary ball.  He's such a hoot who just loves the game.