Yesterday on the way to the Mary Free Bed YMCA Aiden asked me how to spell fought, I actually had to think about it for a second and my initial response was going to be fau… but then I caught myself and relayed the proper spelling to him.  He is in second grade and is starting to write, the story he was working on was about a restaurant called Ichiban where there is a horse that itches your butt for you.  Alarming that I would second guess myself when it comes to spelling a basic word like fought but the reality is that I would be in a real pickle if it weren’t for spell check.  At least once a week I try to type a word and the response when I click on it from spell check is “no suggestion”.  That’s bad when you’ve butchered a word to the point that not even a computer can figure out what you are trying to spell.  When this happens I typically Google my spelling and it will come up with the proper spelling of the word, or if I am feeling particularly lazy I will just use a different word that I can spell well enough to at least get a suggestion from spell check.

We were on our way to the Y for Aiden’s basketball class and for Parker’s T-ball game.  It was picture day and on picture day they want you to show up a half hour before the game’s scheduled start which was 5:15.  We showed up at 5:15 and I was able to run Parker out to the field for the team picture just in the nick of time.  The professional photographer was snapping a way while a few savvy parents (me included) were taking pics with their phones.  After the team photo the photographer said “those of you who haven’t had their individual pictures taken come on over here” yeah right, I can take a picture of my kid in his t-ball jersey whenever I want and that’s only if I want some memento of the complete cluster fuck that is 4-6 year old T-ball.  I only took the team picture with my phone because Shirley wanted me to, if Donald Trump threw banning T-ball on his platform along with getting rid of the USPS I’d vote for him this time around, even if he still thought the wall was plausible and continued to remind us all of its necessity on a daily basis. (that’s how much t-ball sucks)

In the beginning of the season I helped out with coaching.  The first half of the time spent was dedicated to teaching them the fundamentals.  One time I had Parker, his friend, and two random kids.  One of the randoms either had no dad or his dad was a quadriplegic because he had no idea how to throw a ball.  After multiple attempts of trying to show him the proper throwing technique I took his glove away and lit it on fire.  The funny thing is, the other random was smaller than him and claimed he was four years old, the kid was throwing missiles at me with perfect form.  The fielding practice would have been problematic for most but since I have the patience of Job it went smoothly.  However, even with my positive attitude and unlimited patience, it was a struggle during the batting portion of T-ball.  I was assigned to help the kids bat which meant getting them set up and putting their hands in the proper position to swing at the ball.  Some of the kids stood facing the opposite direction of the tee, those kids should have been sent straight to the special olympics tryouts.  Other kids would swing at the ball, which wasn’t moving it was on a tee, and miss the ball by eight inches to a foot and either swing over it or hit the tee so the ball  would only go a foot or two at the most.  All of the fielders would come running at the ball like a pack of hyenas and I would have to tell them to stop and go back so we could do it all over again.  However, with me being the guy handling the kids who were batting I was the one who decided if the play continued or if there would be a do over.  Whenever a kid hit it well, even if it was 30 feet foul my reaction would be “RUN! RUN! RUN!’ so that we could get through the entire lineup and get the hell out of there.

Of course there was another reason to expedite things other than trying to maintain the shred of sanity I still have, snack time, that’s right, every kids sporting event now is concluded with snack time.  How did this happen?  When I was growing up we didn’t have parents assigned to bringing snacks.  My parents rarely showed up to my games, so had they been assigned a snack time there would have been a lot of disappointed kids.  The only thing we had to look forward to was going out to ice cream once a season after a win.  Unfortunately, when I was on McDonald plumbing we didn’t have any wins, but we did have a tie and that was when we got to go out for ice cream.  The thing I don’t get about snack time is the shit parents bring is all the same shit my kids eat on a regular basis or turn their noses up on a regular basis, but its like Christmas for them every time snack time rolls around and they get a bag of skinny pop popcorn and a Capri sun.

I think a lot of parents are like me, they just aren’t as open about it, sporting activities for kids who can’t even read or write are a waste of time.  On top of it, spring sports are dicey when you are dealing with Michigan weather that is not conducive to any type of outdoor activity other than if you were to go outside and hang yourself.  I know I”m right because I have heard many parents say “I hope it gets rained out” in reference to a child’s sporting activity.  You would rather have shitty weather than go to your kid’s sporting event?  WOW!

I’m burying this part of my blog deep, just to make sure the person I am referencing doesn’t find out about this.  Back to the team photo, while the photo I took of the team was great for one reason and only one reason, it was free, the guy who was the professional undoubtedly took a much better photo than I did.  However, as indicated I don’t want a memory of t-ball.  The reality is it takes a lot of training and practice to be good at photography, a fact I wish I would have known a couple weeks ago.  Mothers day was this past weekend and in the past I have taken the kids for a photo shoot as a Mother’s Day present since Shirley is even more compulsive than I am when it comes to buying whatever her heart desires.  Sadly, my buddy’s wife decided to start her own “professional” photography business.  I emailed her and asked her to send me something I could put in a card for Cara and committed to a photo shoot with her.  Sunday morning on the way to church it was sitting on my seat so I gave it to Shirley and said “Happy Mother’s Day!”  The response was less than inspiring “I don’t want to do that, she doesn’t take good photos”.   Shirley then located some of her work contained in an online album and I immediately knew I had made an epic mistake.

I was really hoping in the chaos that is her life she would forget about the photo shoot, no such luck, I was sent an email with an invoice and a request for times that would work for the photo shoot.  Shit!  I give her credit for her entrepreneurial spirit and self confidence, but the reality is it takes a lot of training and experience to get good at taking photos professionally.  When we started our firm we had our secretary take photos for our website and then when we redid the website a few years later we decided to bring in a professional.  The difference between the quality was like the difference between Aiden’s book about a horse that itches your butt for you and a work by Hemingway.  So, do I just suck it up and do the photo shoot with my family?  That’s what Shirley wants to do, but the problem there is I will have endure two photo shoots.  This one and then one to get pictures that Shirley will actually like.  What a dilemma, I have a feeling that doing what I always do, sticking my head in the sand and hoping the problem goes away, isn’t going to work this time.