Henry had a baseball game tonight, because what’s more fun on a Friday night than little league baseball?!?

Well, not much, really.

His team played a great game, although they were a player short, so they borrowed two kids from Charlie’s tball team. And the one kid hit a home run, which was so awesome. But I actually missed the hit because I was standing behind the dugout with my three-year-old nephew and I looked up and Henry was all suited up to play catcher.

We bought him a bat and a glove and a batting helmet, but not a cup. Whoops, there’s an oversight. Sorry, son.

This one inning took ten years off my life. Wade was calling to Henry to “Move up! Move up!” you know so he would be even closer to the kid with the metal bat. Henry refused, and despite the fact that we’re always telling him to listen to the coaches and do what they tell you to do, I was totally on the boy’s side. Move back, son! Further back!

Can you see the ump’s hand, calling the out? And that was the inning and then Henry went to play third base which was so much less stressful, for all of us. And he made the last out of the game, by tagging a runner, which was super.

And that was my Friday night. Now I have to go lie down and perhaps drink some vodka. I love baseball. The end.