Wednesday, March 12, 2014

The Lunch Update

When I was contemplating if I should write a blog post for today, I initially thought that I didn't have anything to talk I should just skip today.

But, after thinking for a few minutes, I realized that there were indeed a couple of opportunities for you all to share some yucks with me. Or at me. Either way, you are reading. So that makes it worth it.

Let's start out with the continuation of the UPS drama. Ok, so you may know that I am in the middle of finishing up my latest rifle build. If you are interested in reading about it, go read about AR V2.0. If you don't care about it, or are terrified of the "black gun", or are convinced that I am some version of David Koresh, then back away slowly. 

Anyways, so, I was bamboozled by UPS on Friday regarding the delivery of my parts. And, according to the email I received after they said "oooppss....just kidding", it was supposed to show up yesterday between 330-530. Again, signature required. So, I was home at 330 on the dot. For 30 minutes I sat outside, enjoyed the sun, then got bored and practiced flipping a jig into the cupholder of my chair. Now, if you would have told me 2 years ago that I could do that, I would have laughed. Now, if only I could catch fish.....

Anyways, I organized some baits, listed a bunch for sale, and was flooded with texts asking me why I was quitting fishing. No. I am not quitting. I am much too vain and headstrong for that. 

At 4, I decided to go get the kids. Alyse doesn't get home on time to get them and the UPS man ALWAYS comes around 5-5:30. 5 minutes later, I turn on to my street to see the UPS man leaving. Of course I find the note on the door telling me "no, you can't sign a piece of paper and we will leave it on your door step". So, today, for the third time....I will be coming home early. 

Well, no time to sweat about it. We got ball to play.  I had about 15 minutes to slingshot some sustenance down Aubree and Griffin's throat before practice. So, as I was warming up food, Aubree came up to me and asked me a very simple questions to which I could not keep a straight face.

"Daddy, can you make money by dancing? 'Cause I think that would be awesome!"

And then Griffin comes in right behind her and says:

"Daddy! I don't like ants. 'Cause they bite."

Well, that's good to know. 

So, we head to practice. Griffin had practice at 5 and Aubree at 6:30. I help out with both of them, though with Griffin it isn't really practice as much as doing this: 
I will say this: Griffin isn't the best player out there, he absolutely LOVES being out on the field and playing with his friends. Speaking of love, he felt like he needed to give me a hug every single play. And, after hugging me, he has to go around to his "fray-ends" and give them high-5s. But, I must say that I really enjoyed his affection. I also love seeing him make friends. He is one of the most social kids I have ever seen. 

It's amazing  to me how much different girls are than boys. If a ball is hit between two girls, neither will pick it up. Boys will fight their own team mate in the outfield to get the ball. On the other hand, you tell a girl who is standing on 2nd base "don't run until I tell you to" and she won't. A boy will look at you, nod, then promptly run into a tag as you yell, scream, and stomp on your hat. 

Speaking of girls, Aubree's practice was a lot of work for all of us. Getting outs of any sort is a big deal in 8U softball. You get a lot of strikeouts as it is, but if you can get 1 fielding out an inning, you will win games. Of course, that's easier said than done. Some girls are great fielders, but can't throw. Some can throw and can't field. That's about 10% of the players. The other 90% can't do either and probably never even saw the ball to begin with. I don't remember baseball being hard, but it must have been. To get outs, you have to field the ball cleanly, first thing .That's a tough thing to do (apparently). You have to get your body in front of it, you have to get your glove on the ground, etc etc. While I don't have any Olympic softball players, it would appear, I do have girls who would make fantastic bull fighters. Don't get it? 
So, what's the solution? Reps. Lots of them. So, we lined the girls up in two different lines and I hit balls at them. Now, I knew I was hitting the ball hard. Probably harder than any girl in the league is going to hit them. But, if you can field these hits, you can field anything. So, for 45 minutes, each girl averaged a rep every 30 seconds. But the time I was done, I had blisters on my delicate hands from hitting. And, I had laser holes bored in the back of my head from all the parents who were glaring at me. But, you know what, they will thank me later. 

Of course, after practice Gavin finally got into the action, after crying to come play through BOTH practices. After watching his siblings so much, he knows exactly what to do. He puts a ball on the T, hits it, then takes off running while yelling "GOGOGOGOGOGOGO!"

This morning was the 2nd part of my yearly physical here at work. All that is, is a review of my blood work. So, the doctor spent 30 seconds to tell me I am fat and my cholesterol is high and 30 minutes telling me how Obama Care sucks. I guess that's the important part. Then I got the obligatory, "would you like a rectal exam? It's free!" To which I replied that I get bent over by the government enough as it is. I don't really need a government doctor to inspect the damage.