So the kids wanted to go play kickball at the park. Good family bonding time and all with dad.
Noah was convinced there were five bases. "THERE ARE FIVE BASES DAD!!!!" he screamed, and then flopped around on the ground. He wasn't convinced until two neighborhood boys came by and told him there were indeed only four bases. And then they asked if they could play.
Those poor, poor, poor boys. They had no idea what they were asking.
Once the number of bases was decided, we put some rocks down to mark each one. The kids were ballistic that they couldn't see the rocks. So me and the neighborhood boys ended up marking them with our shoes and playing barefoot.
Ella kicked the ball, and I made the mistake of catching it. "I'm ooooouuuutttttt?!?!?!?!?!?" she wailed, and collapsed in a heap. Yup, that's what happens when someone catches your kick.
Levi was up. One of the neighborhood kids tagged him. He collapsed in a pile of tears as well.
Ella had now recovered and was fielding. "What do I do!?!? I don't know what to do?!?!?" she balled. I told her to get the ball and tag someone. I think her brain was so shut down she couldn't process it.
Then it was her turn to run again. She had no idea what to do. I told her to run to the first base and stop. Then when Levi kicked behind her, she just sat on first base as he ran up to her. So I told her next time to run to second base. So next time she ran to second, and kept going until she got tagged, and them protested that she had only done what I told her to do.
Levi got nearly his entire team out by passing them all running around all the bases.
Luke was there too, but spent the whole game standing there whimpering after he got out on his first kick.
Levi and Noah ended up walking home in a huff while I picked up our rock bases and put my shoes back on. Ella walked home, but refused to be on the same side of the street as me.
Two and one third innings of pure family happiness, I tell you.
Cousin Andrew and Grant.... help...
Monday, August 29, 2011
Apparently we need to sign them up for organized sports
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4 comments:
We need to get the sports intervention team there stat!!!
I agree with my brother. I think the first step is a good dose of ESPN.
When I got home from work today, Noah informed me that he got a side cramp from playing kickball at school. I asked him if it was from screaming at people about how to play the game.
"No Dad, from running the bases."
"All five of them?" I asked.
"No Dad, you don't run to the pitcher's base!"
"You mean the pitcher's mound?"
"No Dad, it's the pitcher's BASE!!!"
Even I know the difference...
Paige also reminded me that while we were at the indoor amusement park last weekend for our cousin's birthday, Noah screamed with glee "LOOK AT ME MOM, I AM PLAYING SOCCER!!!!!"
First of all... it was an arcade game. The only exercise he got was on this thumbs.
Second of all... the arcade game was football.
Even Paige knows the difference.
Major parenting fail in this area.
I think you need to speak with their gym teachers. I think kickball is gym class 101. If gym class isn't cutting it, perhaps family sports day needs to happen more? I fear for their wellbeing in high school if not!
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