Wednesday, April 25, 2012

in the thick of it

This is my day.  Everyday.
 Throw the ball. Catch the ball. Throw the ball again.
 He was birthed into baseball. I laid in bed. I walked around. I labored in a tub to the sound of baseball.
 He shares a name with one of the greats.
 He keeps score of the games on TV and the ones he plays in his mind.
 He shares a fantasy team with his dad.  He yells at his players when they don't do well and cheers when they do.
It is in his blood.

"Mom, look at this picture in the book doesn't it have so much detail?" She says.
"Mom, don't throw that away I can make something out of it." She says.
"Mom, I'm going to be an artist one day." She says.
"Yes, yes you are."  I say.
It's in her blood.

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