Big Hitter

199/365
6:45pm

Editor's Note: Guest Blogger John

Parenting, I am quite certain, combines stretches of total chaos and monotony with the occasional moment of total, slack-jawed wonderment.

Despite the failings of the Chicago National League Ballclub, the National Pastime has still managed to capture Our Hero's imagination. We recently enjoyed the musical stylings of Mr. Justin Roberts, and his pint-size hit Pop Fly, (which recently topped the Preschool Hot 100) started Jack thinking about playing a little. So, we dug a wiffle bat and bag of balls out of his closet and headed out to the yard.

I have to admit, my expectations for the whole exercise were low. I still have bad memories of the "Connect Four Incident" of 2007. And, about the only sport we've been playing of late are continuous reenactments of penalty shootout that ended the 2008 Champions League Final. The tee ball set was cannibalized for parts at least a year or two ago, so we haven't been swinging the bat at all. And as a family, we're not necessarily well-known for our coordination.

Imagine my shock and awe, when after a bit of tutorial on stance and bat positioning, Jack began spraying the ball around the back yard. Solid contact, big hits. Big smiles, all around. I had to run inside to grab Jen, so she could be part of one of those coveted moments.