Field of Dreams

There is the most fabulous park just two blocks from our new house. Two play structures (one big for the big kids and one small for the small kids), a bunch of swings, and a HUGE open field.

The kids & I trekked up there the other day and I made two mistakes. The first mistake was bringing the dog. It was insanely hot and there are no trees near the play structure to tie him up in the shade. The other mistake was letting Mallory ride her bike combined with bringing the dog. We have to adjust her training wheels because they are too low so if she gets on some uneven pavement, her main wheel that goes when she pedals would be spinning away with no traction. And it seemed that for most of the way up the hill she was having some problems with traction. So I was pushing Carson in the big double stroller, holding Cooper’s leash, and then pulling Mallory up the hill while she was sort of pedaling. Yeah.

When we got to the park – there were about five boys playing in the big open field – they had a net backstop and were playing modified baseball. My interpretation of the rules from watching for the few minutes we were there – no base running, you get 10 outs, anything that isn’t a home run is an out, it’s a home run if the ball hits the hill off your bat, and you are allowed to argue that swinging at a bad pitch for the sake of keeping the pitch from going over the backstop shouldn’t count as an out, but you may not always win that fight with your pitcher.

The kid who was at bat when we were at the climber closest to their game was cranking them to the hill pretty consistently. And Carson was IN HEAVEN watching the kids play. I expected him to run right over there; if they kids were playing with whiffle balls or something soft, I’d probably have let Carson go check it out.

Instead he kept his distance but couldn’t keep his eyes off of them.

How many years do I have before he’s the one dragging a big ass backstop up the street to play ball with his buddies?