Compulsory fun

So, we signed Clark up for t-ball.

You know- endless summer frivolity and enjoyment. Memorable moments with one's offspring, creating lifelong bonds while participating in the classic sport of the ages. Relationship foundations forged that will span generations, with bat in hand and a father's advice in the ear- "Keep your eye on the ball, son...", "Crouch down with your mit on the ground", "Rub a little pine tar on your hands" and other secrets, never recorded, but passed on only through the most noble of grapevines, from father-to-son. Gamboling through the infield chasing down grounders, frolicing for hours, savoring the last moments of summer light before the sun retires behind the western horizon. These are the sweet expectations of every father going into his first year of t-ball. What I actually got?

A nursery child with weapons...

That's right- I feel as if I've been given the calling of watching a wildly vociferous hooligan that is supplied with pain inflicting toys. Although packaged in cute hat and t-shirts, that hangs past his knees, restricing any real athletic movement, Clark has become a strange combination of Denise the Menace, Chuck Norris and "Stevie" the feral child. Not a good combo, I might add! Between pushing other kids off their bases, eating grass and hitting me across the shins with a bat, Clark has turned a quintessential game of baseball into an all consuming hour of parenting horror. Endlessly, I beg for cooperation with pleads ranging from , "Clark, please run. Don't twirl." to, "Okay, take the bat handle out of your mouth." and, "Yes, that is a nice pile of grass and leaves, and if you stand by second base I'll give you a snack...a new bike...a freakin' pony, now go stand by second base!".

Through it all, I've found that Clark is more interested in BEING a baseball player than actually PLAYING baseball. He wants the glove, shirt, cool white- fast as lighting shoes, the corn syrup served following every game, and the accolades from all, far and wide. He's just not into actually throwing, catching and hitting a baseball. But hey, expectations now thoroughly adjusted, if baseball is about Clark having fun, playing and enjoying the outside..it's still the best time either of us could ever have. ;)

"Now, take your underwear off your head and run to first base..or so help me...!"