Cap?
Check!
Glove?
Check!
Bat?
Check!
Ball?
Check!
Water bottle?
Check!
Lawn chair?
Check!

I had it together! Last year, we never made a game fully-equipped. However, this year was going to be different. I had everything prepared for the first baseball game of the season. The pre-season was tough – three practices a week and an optional two-hour batting practice. This is a serious baseball team and I was going to be seriously prepared.

I load up the kids and we are off to the ball park. On the way, my youngest takes a sip of the water bottle and spills it all over the floor of the car. Frustrated, but still determined to have a successful night, I promise to buy another water bottle at the game. We arrive at the field in time for warm-ups. I look at my son and realize something is missing.

“Where is your baseball cap?” He shrugs and says, “I don’t know”. I cry, “You had it on your head when we were walking to the car!! What did you do with it??”. “I don’t know”, he replies. The coach offers to let him wear his baseball cap for the game. Embarrassed, I accept his offer and glare at my son while I position the over-sized cap on his head.

Colton enters into the batting cage. The coach stops him and looks at me and says, “Is this Colton’s bat?” I nod, not knowing where he was going with this. “This looks like a 1.8 inch bat and he needs a 2.5 inch bat.” I immediately start to blame my husband (who happens to be out of town). After all, he bought the damn thing and how the hell should I know the difference between a 1.8 inch and 2.5 inch bat. Looking helpless, the coach offers his son’s bat as a substitute for the evening.

The game begins and Colton is up to bat. He did well in batting practice and I felt confident he would at least get on first base. SWING. “STRIKE ONE!” SWING. “STRIKE TWO!” SWING. “STRIKE THREE!” It was over so quickly and my heart sank. Trying to be supportive, I yell, “Good Swinging Colton!”

One of the moms (who gave me one of her extra water bottles and witnessed me borrowing the baseball cap and baseball bat) smiled sympathetically as we watched my son return to the dug out. “Is this your first baseball season?” I lied and said “Yes, we’re still trying to get the hang of this.”