Tonight I have a headache (probably a combination of yoga and chirporactic treatment today) so everyone is in bed already (9:00 p.m.). It's a miracle and probably what time everyone should go to bed every night anyway. But tonight was one of the rare nights that we didn't have any obligations so we came home and the boys had bath and dinner and then watched a baseball movie while I came upstairs to try to work after discussing the importance of how to encourage players who aren't the best (rather than criticize them) but ultimately wound up lying down with my eyes closed until they came bombing up the stairs.
We can't seem to keep track of our baseball gloves and the Bigs' pitching clinic starts tomorrow night. I thought my middle son would make a good catcher, and that is what my oldest thought, too, but perhaps he'll be like Rocket Roger Clemens, one of my fave Red Sox from the 80s. He's built like him anyway.
Tonight on the way home we had a fascinating conversation about blood blisters and scabs and why they exist and the importance of leaving them alone. One of my boys got an amazing blood blister the other day while playing air hockey and thankfully one of the moms had what must've been a first aid kit in her purse -- I think she doled out not one, not two, but three bandages. I asked tonight if he needed his wound cleaned and bandaged after he had confessed to eradicating the blister, "oh, no, Mom, look! There's nothing left of it but ..." "Hang on, honey, I'm driving..."
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