Thursday, June 24, 2010
T-Ball Brain
Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! If you still have a few marbles rolling around your skull after reading today's post, click on over to fill your brain with funnies from all the great bloggers over at dad-blogs.com .
So apparently this season I've taken one too many whacks in the head [figuratively] with the t-ball bat.
Allow me to set this up for you.
Last Friday, Grampap-E was planning to attend Big Brother's t-ball game.
Mom-E had taken the boys on a road trip that day to meet up with a high school friend and her new baby.
I called Mom-E on my way home from work, about an hour or so before the game. Mom-E informed me they got stuck in traffic, had made a pit stop at Gramm-E and Grampap's house, and would be cutting it close on time to get there for the game.
"No problem," I said. "I've got a plan."
(Ladies, when a man says 'I've got a plan', that's codespeak for "I'm about to do something dumb.")
"I'll call Grampap-E. He can meet me at our house. We'll drive together, pick up some Subway--better know as Chip & Chocolate Juice Way to the boys--and meet you at the t-ball field. That'll give you time to feed Bab-E Brother, the boys time to eat, and Big Brother time to change."
Mom-E replied, "That sounds good."
(Guys, when your wife says 'That sounds good', that's her codespeak for "I will not be surprised if you do something dumb.")
So, here's how the "plan" worked out:
1. I met up with Grampap-E at our house. I changed my clothes, let the dog out, and gathered up some extra snacks for the boys, and baby food for Bab-E. We headed out with enough time to pick up Subway for everyone.
2. Mom-E arrived a little early, and said, "We'll just meet you at Subway because the boys are asleep in the minivan."
(Guys, this is codespeak for, "I'm lining up my front row seats to watch you look dumb.")
3. We no sooner get to Subway, than I realize I forgot ALL OF BIG BROTHER'S BASEBALL STUFF. I mean ALL of it. No hat, glove, team shirt, cletes. Nothing.
"Hey, does the kid's meal happen to come with a baseball hat, jersey, glove, and shoes?"
4. All 3 boys are now awake, hungry, and screaming. Grampap-E and I quickly get food. Mom-E drives home to rescue Big Brother's baseball stuff, which is scattered throughout the house.
(If looks could kill, Mom-E has already laser beamed off my head when I told her I forgot the t-ball stuff.)
5. We're all back to our house. Big Brother is screaming that he doesn't want to play t-ball. Bab-E Brother is screaming for Mom-E's milk. Little Brother is screaming because that's what he does when he wakes up from his nap. Mom-E is screaming at me with the look in her eyes that says "We've had a very long, trying, hectic day, and your 'plan' isn't helping." Grampap-E is screaming with laughter inside his head because my marbles are hemorrhaging left and right.
We attempt to placate small children with chips and chocolate milk.
6. We find all of Big Brother's t-ball stuff EXCEPT his glove. We tear apart the minivan and "toybox" in the garage. No luck.
(The game starts in 5 minutes. Tick tock, tick tock.)
7. From somewhere--probably inside the minivan where we'd been looking--Grampap-E finds the glove.
AMEN!
8. We head to the t-ball field. It starts POURING DOWN RAIN.
9. We arrive at the field. It has stopped raining. The parking lot is covered with--literally--steam from the evaporating rain water. It is so hot that I feel like I'm in the sauna. My clothes feel like I took a shower without first taking them off.
Boys are finishing eating. We unpack the minivan. Big Brother's glove is NOWHERE to be found! I mean vanished.
(Hey, Busy-Dad-E, how's that "plan" working out for ya right about now?)
9. Grampap-E volunteers to make his third trip to our house in a span of about 30 minutes. Fortunately, Big Brother's team is batting first, which buys us some time.
10. Grampap-E returns with Big Brother's glove.
(Apparently, I improvised the "plan" by throwing the glove BACK INTO THE TOYBOX after we found it. Another marble falls out of my head. I'm left with just one.)
11. Big Brother plays his game and we all cheer him on.
12. Half-way through the game, it starts POURING DOWN RAIN AGAIN. The game gets called.
13. We get everybody loaded up in the minivan. Grampap-E heads home as well.
14. We make a pit stop for ice cream on the way home.
(It's all part of my "plan". Yeah, that's it. Chocolate is a natural antidepressant to help Mom-E cope after her hectic day. Ice cream makes kids happy. And I only have one marble left, so I don't have to worry about brain freeze.)
And now you know why I "retired" from coaching after one soccer season.
Mom-E has also relinquished me from all future planning-related responsibilities.
Have a good weekend,
Please send me my marbles if you find any,
Busy-Dad-E
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LOL! That was quite a night. As Big Brother once said me, "Here's the plan: we'll do the plan, have fun, and do the plan!" "Huh?" you ask...he got his planning skills from Dad-E.
ReplyDeleteJust kidding, Dad-E! We all have days where the plan just doesn't get executed the way we intended. It does make for a fun story for later. :)
Mom-E
Wow... wow... wow.
ReplyDeleteI am calling the Vatican now to start the beatification of your wife.
: )
T
trust me, some of the most organized moms lose their marbles, too :o)
ReplyDeleteThis is so funny because we've all had a day like this once or twice (or a hundred times). You want to call it a day and go to bed when it happens, but it really does make for a great story and blogging material later! HAHA! Hopefully you found your marbles! love, aunt-e
ReplyDelete