Bloody Pirates

One night at tee ball, Ptolemy's scab fell off.  He came running over to where I was reading (Oops, I hadn't realized the game had started already!).  Crying and wailing, he said, "Take a picture of my knee and send it to someone."  That is so funny/not funny.  I don't know what possesses me to add sports to our spring schedule.  It's my debilitating optimism again.  "I'm sure it will be fine.  It's only 8 games, and it's so fun to be outside, relaxing, enjoying the nice weather, watching Ptolemy be cute in his little baseball jersey."

And that's exactly how it is. Except it's more like this:  I tricked Araceli into missing Young Women's (weeding at the church) so she could watch Tizzy at Ptolemy's game while Scott took Ruby to guitar and I sneaked Freestone out of play practice to go to 20 minutes of his ballet class to run the recital dance a few times.  While I was gone, Tizzy fell off a retaining wall and scraped the inside of her leg.  My friend Jen bandaged it up.

So that was a good game.  I wish I could say the other games have been any different!  And so much for looking adorable in his uniform.  Last game, I totally forgot to bring his jersey.  Poor little Ptolemy was wearing his swimsuit (Because we're trying to do SUMMER here, on top of everything else) and a blue oxford.  The other team was blue.  The part that proves how insanely optimistic I am is that I actually looked in the back of the car for a yellow shirt, as if the result would be, "Oh, here's an extra Pirates shirt in Ptolemy's size that just happened to be in my car!"

I'm concerned it's gone beyond debilitating optimism to "delusions of grandeur."  I often think the line in my head from Finding Nemo:  "You think you can do these things, but you just can't, Nemo!"

Still, there COULD have been a yellow shirt in the back of the car.