It's official...we are now Little Leaguers.

Yesterday was our first practice.

I have been avoiding organized sports all these years, and this time the family wore me down. Our youngest spawn wants to play baseball, follow in his grand-daddys footsteps.

In my two visits to the field, I have already experienced:

1. Little boys between 8-12 having a "potty mouth" that will make even an OLD, seasoned potty mouth like mine drop open (you can read details on facebook).
2. Grown women verbally fighting. I walked away before they began swinging fists.
3. Kids bitching at their parents, and parents thinking it's cute.
4. Me, freezing my ass off because I obviously do not know the appropriate baseball field attire. Tomorrow, I am wearing gear.
5. My son needs a
6. Everyone should go pee before we leave the house, since the bathrooms at the field are always locked up.
7. I am either going to have to undergo a complete personality makeover to get through this, or bubble up.

My baby is having a blast, and once he figures out where to run to and how to hit that little ball, we are gonna' kick some butt!!


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