Take me out to the ballgame?

As the parent of two sons I have watched a lot of recreation league baseball games in the last ten years.  A LOT!

Thankfully with a group of very smart, very funny parents, for whom sportsmanship trumps winning any day.  (Thank you coaches of the past ten years!)

I suspect when our kids age out of baseball we'll still want to sit in the foul ball zone together just to keep up with each other.  We'll be creepy middle age people sitting in folding chairs watching kids we've never met.  Ick.... Stop... this post is taking a bad turn.

In any event, this past summer we're sitting there as usual watching all of our charming sons play their hearts out.

I happen to be sitting next Mrs. Coach (This may be her pseudonym because she carries a nice purse?  Who knows?).

Her phone rings to the ring tone of "release the hounds" -- to which we all say in our best British accents "Release the Hounds"  -- remember we've been team/parent/mates for years now.

She's chatting on the phone with the kid left at home, as we all have done at some point in the past.  Normal conversation...

"What did you make yourself for dinner?"

"Is your homework done?"

"Did you let the dog out?"

And then we hear this:

"Game?  What game?"

Yes, that's right BA31 readers Mrs. Coach didn't know what the at home kid meant when she asked about the game.

You know the game we were watching from our folding chairs.  

It's like sitting at Beach Access 31 with less sand and no seagulls.