We went out the the local Chico Outlaws game tonight, but it was jammed-packed (4,500 people) because former Major Leaguer/steroid dude Jose Canseco was playing on the opposing team, the San Diego Surf Dawgs. We didn't get to the stadium until the sixth inning, because Alec had taken an impromptu nap after going hog-wild at Barnes & Noble and exhibiting symptoms of a cold and/or teething. We went straight to the playground, and Alec leisurely went about climbing, unaware that he was about to be trampled. Some girl who looked about 11 knocked him over, and some crazy-mom voice coming out of my mouth said, "Hey! You just knocked my baby over. You're too big to be in here anyway, according to the sign." Later, I saw her pointing me out to her dad. I'm sure crazy-mom version of Devanie will only get worse from here on out.
Alec loved the fireworks, but we covered his ears on the loudest one. I got him a game ball and player #30 from the Surf Dawgs signed it and Tom wants Alec to have it forever for a souvenir.
1 comment:
Don't worry, I became irate at a 9yr-old when I took Rhiannon to BlockFest (the age limit was 8, but he was clearly older). Hey, he shoved her to the ground to get a cardboard block! His mom: "Honey, come here, please...let's try to be nice, okay? Thank you!"
I glared at her and she looked to the ground in shame. (Well, in my mind it was in shame.)
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