T-Ball with J., N. and S.

On a Saturday I drove up to the Roxborough area to watch S. play T-ball. He had asked me if I would see him play during the Memorial Day fun, and I had said yes, and I keep my promises when I can. It was definitely not the most formal of games. The opposing team had a two year old and was still a few players short, so S. ended up playing for the other team. He had some success and some trouble with the t, but got to run around and fall over a fair amount.
J. and I sat out of the way with N., who had a tendency to want to go elsewhere...this is one technique for anchoring a child. Heh, he's fine.
I became, as I often do, a jungle gym and toy factory for N.
He liked my hat, so he wore my hat.
He mugged with my sunglasses.
At one point I overheard another parent say to her child: "What did I tell you. If someone hits you, you hit them back!" Ugh. This is what is wrong with people. These are four and five year olds. Give me a break. Whatever.
After the game, the winner of which I could not tell you, there was a celebratory photograph taken.
Trophies were handed out.
And hot dogs!
S. and I walked down to one of the bigger baseball diamonds and he ran around all the bases. I wish I knew how to make something a GIF.
Is GIF what you call those photographs that move? Because that's what I mean.
A lovely start to the morning. I'm glad that I got to see S. play before the end of his season.