Junior had his first baseball game over the weekend. It’s now 50% coach pitch, 50% kid pitch and 100% brutal — the first game lasted 2 hours and 15 minutes. And Tom (aka Great Santini) threw a pitch right into Junior’s wrist. Poor kid fought through his tears and stayed in the batter’s box. Then struck out.
Which brings me to this Flashback Post from a couple of years ago:
So baseball season is upon us and the kids are playing catcher this year which only means one thing: lots of errant balls! Coach (husband) instructs the parents to get all their boys cups for protection.
So I take the kids to Dick’s (insert proper jock strap joke here) Sporting Goods for my first cup shopping experience. I try to explain to Junior what this contraption is and how it will protect his privates during a game. He then takes this opportunity to insert “PENIS” into every comment and question while we are perusing the baseball section.
“So mom, do you think this green one will look good on my PENIS?”
“Hey, do you think the one over here will fit over my PENIS?”
“Why does this say pee-wee size? Is that good for my PENIS?”
“Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Those over there must be for boys with big PENISES.” (Okay, gotta admit that finally catches my attention. Who knew there were so many sizes for so many endowments? The larger they got, the more they reminded me of Jason masks. Or of my husband’s sleep apnea mask.)
Straps, shorts, sliding pads, briefs… the options were dizzying and I found myself squeezing the cups to see if the gel pads really were more cozy than the rubber option. Of course, I get busted by Junior as he is lying in the aisle laughing his PENIS off.
I grab a $25 testicle festival and get the hell out of there.