Softball has started up again, and my legs and elbows look like crap…I attempted diving after a ground ball, would be a better story if I had caught the damn ball, but alas I am old and I instead of sliding gracefully, and catching the thing, I was reacted to slow and then sorta collapsed and skidded, and the ball went on by. Not a pretty sight, and my knee has a huge scab and my elbow are also tore up. Also it’s been three days since the game and all of my muscles ache. I remember the bruises, scrapes, from when I was younger playing, but I don’t recall ever feeling sore. Getting older sucks a fat toe.
My neighbor across the street casually asked me if I had heard about a certain child rearing method. She then gave me a book that she had called Your Three Year Old: Friend or Enemy? She’s really sweet, but I am unsure if she was being nice and just getting rid of an old book of hers, or has just seen Dave and I outside screaming at the kids. The cover has a picture of a boy from the 70’s with a shaggy haircut looking like a super goofball. For the record I am going to read it, but Dave and I couldn’t help but giggle thinking about what she had witnessed that inspired her to give us the book.
No comments:
Post a Comment