A few days past the 4th of July, but here goes my patriotic post...baseball. The Absters had her first t-ball game last Thursday...their very first game after 3 rained-out practices, which basically meant that they had no earthly idea what they were doing. The great points were that A) there were no imaginary butterflies being caught in the outfield, B) absolutely no tears...a lot of confused looks, but no tears, and C) she looked awfully darn adorable in her baseball uniform...especially after I made her change out of her hot pink undies.
What we did find out was that she throws like a girl, bats like she's swatting 'squitos, and loves to watch the ball travel right between her feet. The good news is that this pertains to pretty much most of the team, so we're not that bad off quite yet. The kiddo doesn't quite understand the game yet or why it isn't best to run after every single ball that has been hit and heap onto the pile of a half-dozen teammates that have decided to do the same, but I'm not expecting too much quite yet from someone who merely wanted to play because one of her best friends was playing.
She says she's having a blast, and she is mighty adorable doing it. I'm still trying to figure out why baseball season is in the heart of summer around here as we try to either dodge thunderstorms or not melt in the scorching heat. I keep telling Abby to enjoy this season because next season is when she is old enough for the softball league and won't be able to hit off a tee after 3 missed hits or get as many strikes as you want. She just looks at me with her toothy smile and asks "What's a strike?"