Why My Butt Gets Bigger During Baseball Season
Once upon a time I went to the gym. I roller bladed. I took hip hop classes. I even went to weekly Weight Watcher meetings. That was before baseball. You see B.B. (before baseball) or B.S. (before softball), I had at least six hours in the day to do the things I wanted to accomplish on a weekend. From hitting the gym, to getting a mani/pedi to food shopping (yes, I'm one of those people who happens to like to skip out on my family as I peruse the aisles of our local supermarket), I had the world at my feet. And then my kids took up team sports. And life as I knew it was never the same.
Now, every weekend is like groundhogs day. I wake up to find out if I'm going to get a few more hours on my side only to learn that my daughter has a double header in Hastings, while my son's game is 10 miles away at the exact same time. I can honestly write a word problem about our weekend ball game travails:
If you have two children and one has a baseball game at 11am and the other has a game at noon but must be at the ball field for practice at 11:30am, how do you make it to both fields to watch them play? Answer: You don't.
So back to my butt.