And speaking of Stuff of Enormous Importance, I will have you to know that I went to my first-ever organized-ish sports meeting tonight - as a parent.
My daughter is going to learn how to play baseball, y'all.
I know. It makes me clutch at my chest a little, too. And it will no doubt provide you hours of endless hootin' and howlin' because, get this: the class requires full-time interactive parent participation. From, like, me.
You know, I think y'all need a minute to mull that over in your heads.
Are you visualizing?
Got the image up yet?
(Here, lemme give you a little help in the way of sound effects: Waddle waddle waddle, zzzzzzzzzzzzzhip, WHONK. Ow! Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow...)
Yes, come next Friday, I feel quite confident that you will be reading something plenty humiliatin' about yours truly and a Nerf® baseball and grass stains and perhaps even a few lacerations and contusions and if we're lucky, thankfully only a mild sprain. Mark my words, people.
But my kid, she's not like me, a fact for which I am eternally grateful. She has balance, and poise and aim and grace. Compared to her bumbling clod of a mother, this child is an ambidexterous gazelle with a wicked fast ball.
And speaking of horned, hooved animals, I'm reviewing
Y'all have a good Friday. And watch out for errant baseballs outta nowhere - I'ma be practicin' m'skillz over the weekend.