That old American pastime...baseball.
It has stolen his heart.
It all started when we decided to sign him up for T-ball.
Then we figured that my dear city husband should try and coach the team.
(I warned him that it's similar to nailing jello to a tree...it may not stick and it will be rather messy.)
W. got so excited, he got his physical therapist to practice with him.
She worked on running, torso strength, and arm strength with him.
They worked on throwing.
They worked on hand eye coordination.
After work, the husband worked on hitting, catching, and running the bases.
I would come home at night sometimes and find pillows all over the floor.
They were running the bases.
They were working on strategy.
They can be rather intense.
Last night my husband took W. to a real baseball game.
They were the first ones in the park.
By the bullpen they watched warm-ups and my son's heart was stolen forever...
the pitcher threw the warm-up ball to him.
When the boys came home at 11:00pm last night
(W. goes to bed by 7:00pm usually)
he was still wide awake.
He told me all about the whole game with his eyes ablaze.
He has hitched his heart to baseball.