We had Rangers baseball tickets for the second Wednesday after I got back from vacation and I spent more than a week thinking I was on heart call for surgery (I love my new job!) and couldn’t go to the game with Ed and the boys. I thought I was on call right up until I left work at 3:00 that afternoon when I double checked the call schedule and found out I was not on call. Score! I called Ed and told him I could go to the game. Fortunately, he hadn’t found anyone to take my ticket.
We hopped into Ed’s SUV and drove an hour and a half to the Ballpark at Arlington. It’s a drive we make fairly frequently. The boys, as they tend to do, told plenty of fart jokes and farted and said, “You’re welcome, Mommy!”
Red lights are red.
Green lights are green.
How much can I fart if I eat one pinto bean?
They are a gift to poetry.
At some point in the drive, Logan became upset with Trip and was trying to illustrate how cruel Trip was to him.
“He really doesn’t love me! He’s so mean to me! He’s so mean, he gave me cat turds for Christmas last year!”
He gave you WHAT?
“He gave me cat turds and made me eat them!”
Oh, the horror!
“It’s not funny, Dad!”
I agree, boy. It’s not funny.
Giggle. Snort. (From Trip, not Logan.)
“He didn’t even put salt on them before he made me eat them!”
Logan was distraught!
I died laughing! I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The poor boy was so upset though about the mistreatment he had withstood at the hands of his brother.
We got to the game and bought lots and lots of food. Logan and Trip are at an age where they can finally appreciate a good baseball game without constant intervention and placation. In the fourth inning, the Rangers had done something which resulted in a sponsored giveaway for the fans. We all got coupons to Denny’s for a free grand slam breakfast with the purchase of a drink. After lots and lots of explaining what the coupons meant, Logan decided it was time to bargain. I told him I’d give him my pancakes because I can’t have them anyway with my paleo diet. Never mind that I don’t like pancakes anyway and wouldn’t eat them even if I wasn’t following any kind of diet, I would just give them to him. Logan didn’t want my theoretical pancakes. He wanted my bacon. Naturally, I refused. We’re talking bacon here. I’m not giving it up! Logan threatened to eat my arm because I wouldn’t commit to giving him the bacon from the free breakfast. I told him my arm was paleo and asked him if he was turning into a cannibal. He grinned, licked his lips, and tasted my arm. He threw my arm back at me, saying it tasted like I hadn’t showered in weeks.
As I protested his assertion, he assured me he was still going to eat my arm, I just needed to clean it first.