Read the previous entry with last week’s story first. This is today’s chapter from official NewMexiKen daughter Jill:
Today at tee-ball, big-kid Ryan was really ripping the ball. (Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the child, who turns five next month, enjoyed a nice 16-ounce bottle of Coke throughout the class.)
Anyway, he and Mack were placed on opposite teams by the coach, as always. The first two times he hit, Ryan got home runs. Both times, Mack fielded the ball, but didn’t catch Ryan to tag him out. (This in part because Mack employs the apparently universal tee-ball strategy of falling in place behind the base runner, clutching the ball, and basically running the bases behind him. I’ve tried to explain that the fielder can angle across the field and cut the runner off, but that apparently does not compute.)
After the second home run, Mack threw the ball across the gym. I made him go get it. He returned in tears, incredibly frustrated by the double turn of events. I told him to try again next time.
Ryan’s third time up, Mack again got the ball. This time, he tagged Ryan out just in front of second base. Ryan was visibly upset.
The coach actually stopped the class, went out and brought the two boys together, and made them shake hands. (Actually, neither boy would shake hands – I think more out of confusion than pique – so they ended up doing a high five.) She explained that sometimes you get out, and sometimes you don’t, and then everyone needed to get along and play nice.
After which, Mack walked back over to me and said, under his breath, “Did you see? I got him. Yes!”
I think Mack and I are the people in this class that everyone else hates.