Late Friday Night Conversation:
(Set scene: We were coming home from middle son’s high school baseball game, (aside: where he hit a whopper right at the right time and drove in three runs, and also scored himself – in front of his girlfriend and her posse of friends – and his grandparents and parents – it was the stuff of dreams, which rarely happens in baseball – so we were all fat and happy – and a we bit pleased with ourselves, can you tell my proud momma voice? – after a gorgeous spring evening baseball win) – it was already 9pm, and the weekend ahead was full of Boy Scouts and work and grocery shopping – I wanted some sleep.)
Mom: Youngest son, do you need your baseball uniform washed for tomorrow?
Youngest son: No, its not dirty.
Mom: Did I wash it already?
YS: No, but it isn’t dirty.
Mom: How can it not be dirty?
YS: I don’t know. It just isn’t.
Mom: Well, you have pictures tomorrow, so it should look nice.
DAD: Why don’t you show it to mom and let mom decide.
Here is what I did late last night…