6 : 228 : 5 : 15
“MOM! MOM!” I heard Puck’s Pumas pounding the carpet as he ran down the hallway towards me, holding a bloody paper towel in one hand.
I had just finished my lunch room shift downstairs where Snicky had stuffed Puck’s entire peanut butter sandwich into Puck’s mouth – Puck just laughed – leaving a gooey, inedible mess on the table, including a spot of blood. But I knew it was just from his loose tooth.
“MOM! MOM! I LOST A TOOTH!”
Puck paused in the school office for a ziplock, stuffed the tooth inside, and returned to his classroom.
During torrential rain later in the afternoon, Francis and I drove out to school to grab Puck from school. Violet waited with us at the gym doors for his grand entrance. This time, Puck had cooled the jets and Violet was inadvertently ignored. I guess you just can’t look too eager in front of the ladies all the time.
Ballpark Village.
We were celebrating Grandma Combs’ 79th birthday one month early – Aunt Petunia, Mom, Carrie-Bri, Rose, and myself – with dinner and a 7:15 game against the Tigers.
After Grandma ordered a burger, she was surprised by our server with a plate of chocolate brownie for the occasion. And by the time we polished off the dishes and established ourselves in place across the street at the stadium, it was just about game time.
Inter-league play is always a tricky beast. After awhile, Rose began peeling the nail polish off her fingers.
“It’s the game’s fault,” she insisted. “It gets too tense!”
After awhile, she concluded that for every batter hit in the head by a pitch, his team should collect “ten points”. Fortunately, no batters were in the head. Also fortunately, Rose doesn’t run Major League Baseball.
Unfortunately, Grandma didn’t get a win for her birthday by the end of an abnormally long nine innings. But she did get two sets of red fireworks over two, two-run shots. Something to add to the memory books.