Frankie’s first baseball game was an absolute hoot last night. OMG. Our team got massacred because the other team had players that had played for a year or two and our team has never played before and they had only had four practices. (Normally, the teams practice for at least 4 weeks before they start playing actual games, but for some stupid reason they’ve changed it this year and they only practiced for 2 weeks prior. NOT a good change!) But, being what it was, we just took it as that and laughed and laughed. For instance, Frankie got up to bat, hit a foul and ran to first. Good boy! Everyone told him it was a foul and to go back. But he pretty much ignored that advice and kept on a’runnin’! Ran all the bases while we all laughed hysterically. He was so proud when he got to home plate. Then we just told him he got to hit again! And he did! Got a base hit. That’s my boy! When he got to second, the next boy got to first and decided he should keep running, and he headed to second but Frankie had to stay on second so the other boy got out. One little boy, when told to leave first and head to second, took off into the outfield! Another little boy, when he caught the ball, refused to give it back to the pitcher for play to continue until our coach came and got it from him. He was protecting that ball at all costs! I’m telling you, we all got our laughter quotient for the day. Have another game on Thursday.

Every night, I read a bedtime story to our youngest son, Frankie. He’s five now and let me tell you, he is a little spitfire and full of himself. He is one ‘wild and crazy guy’ as Steve Martin would say.

The other night I read him his story and then we turned off the light and I lay down next to him to cuddle for a few moments and talk. I’ve learned that if I just hang out there with him and we talk about his day for maybe five minutes, he goes to sleep pretty quick. So, as we snuggled, he, very seriously, said, “I need new eyebrows.” Now, in my 14 years of parenting and my ah, hem, 45 years of life, have honestly never heard anyone say they needed new eyebrows. And he was so serious about this. I played along, desperately trying to quell my internal giggling. (Come on, you would be struggling, too! Admit it!) “Why do you need new eyebrows, Frankie?” I asked. “Well, these are old, mommy. I need new ones.”

“But, Frankie, I’ve had mine for 45 years and they’re okay. And James has had his eyebrows for almost 14 years and he’s never gotten any new ones.”

“Yeah, mommy, but mine are old. So, you can either put the new ones on over the old ones, or you cut my old ones off and put the new ones on there, but you’d have to be really careful not to cut my eyes. Maybe you should just put the new ones on over the old ones.”

Now, please keep in mind just how serious this issue is for him and I am doing a unbelievably fantastic job of keeping myself in check. Very proud.

“Okay, Frankie. We’ll see what we can do but I’m not really sure I know where we can get some new eyebrows. Maybe you should just get some sleep now, okay?”

“Okay, mommy. Oh, mommy?”

“Yes, Frankie?”

“Knock knock….”

That was just it for me. And now, after the eyebrows, Frankie has hit the knock-knock age and I just have to make a dignified escape from his room before I explode with pent up laughter!

Frankie