Life with boys involves lots of different things. Dirt, sticks, bugs, band aids, trees, bikes, scooters, skateboards, sports, punching, burping, building things, grunting, eating and eating and eating. It's smelly and sticky and gritty. All the time. Everything is loud and in constant motion.
It's all about becoming a man. Somehow even as little as The Mr.'s are, it's all about that eventual transformation into men. They strive and struggle to be their own boy and assert themselves against the world. I don't think they even know half the time why they are so bent on arguing with me and doing the exact polar opposite of what I'm telling them. It's just part of the deal with these sweaty little creatures.
In the midst of living a long summer with them, baseball has descended on our house. Settling over everything like a fine covering of dirt on home plate. Over breakfast there's the sports page. During the day, The Little Mr.'s have other boys, bats, balls and gloves all around the yards. In the evening we have the new baseball board game. There are statistics and scores. The games are on the radio, Mr. Baseball himself floating through my kitchen. The TV is often showing a game somewhere.
Now, it's going to overtake our vacation time. We'll be going to both major and minor league games. I see tailgating, catch and score keeping in the future. The Littlest Mr. has also started his summer baseball season.
On a side note, welcome back to some readers who haven't been here for a while, and hello to some new ones. Thanks for stopping bye and keeping up with me.