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April 14, 2004

Take Me Out Of The Ball Game

Those who doubt that meat was meant for humans need to watch a baby with a pork rib bone for a minute or two. It's a very informative display.

Took the family to the Durham Bulls/Toledo Mud Hens game tonight. It was cold, but it was magnet night, which the Sainted Wife has not missed in eleven years. The first thousand or so fans through the gates receive a magnetized schedule for the rest of the year, and for some reason obtaining on has been an obsession with her since we first started dating. This was my ninth magnet night, Ngnat's fourth, and Scotty's first. They wore matching sweaters in honor of the occasion.

Neither did much actual viewing of the game, but we'd expected that, having learned harsh lessons at the hands of Ngnat in the years previous. The secret to keeping kids below a certain age still at the ballpark involves food, and plenty of it. Ngnat had pizza, popcorn, cotton candy, a Pepsi, and cinnamon roasted pecan halves from the Nutty Bavarian. Scotty had popcorn dust, barbecue and the aforementioned rib bone, which I gave to him fairly early in the evening. He immediately began to gnaw on it.

Three hours later we were on the way home. He was fast asleep, and still had a death grip on it.

We'd have stayed longer, but the game got hot, the crowd got excited, and the noise of the cheers scared the poor child to death. A Bull would get a hit or make a play, the crowd would roar, and Scotty would wail.

"He's a Toledo fan." I informed the people next to us.

Eventually I gathered him and the rest of the familial accoutrements and went to join SW and Ngnat at the playground. We then departed, this time to the wails of Ngnat, who felt she had been promised a balloon animal at some point in the evening, and was not shy about letting the world know that she had been damnably cheated.

For two solid blocks she alternately sobbed, then wailed "I-hi wa-hant a-ha ba-loo-hoon an-i-mal-hal!" to the world.

It was her first public tantrum. It was great. I took pictures, though she took to hiding behind her mother in order to prevent me from doing so.

The louder she wailed, the harder it became for SW and I.

Not that we were upset. Far from it. It was all we could do to hide our giggles from her.

We're horrible, unfeeling parents, don't you know. Eventually Ngnat realized that there were no balloon animals forthcoming no matter how hard she cried.

"Will you carry me on your shoulders, Daddy?" she asked, tearily.

"I'd like nothing better, sweetheart." I said, and swung her up. "Did you have a good time tonight?"

She considered a moment, from her perch atop the world. "Yea."

Posted by Bigwig at April 14, 2004 10:16 PM | TrackBack
Postscript:
First time visitor to House Hraka? Wondering if everything we produce could possibly be as brilliant/stupid/evil/pedantic/insipid/inspired as the post you just read? Check out the Hraka Essentials, the (mostly) reader-selected guide to Hraka's best posts, and decide for yourself.
Comments

Amazing the resemblence between son and father. Especially in the "death grip" skill with a rib bone.

Truly stunning.

Posted by: clif at April 15, 2004 10:37 AM

That's awesome! I'm going to have to remember the camera business when I have kids...

Posted by: HokiePundit at April 15, 2004 04:39 PM

Those pics are priceless, Bigwig. Remember to show to them to the kids, oh, 10-15 years from now!

Posted by: Tin Tin at April 16, 2004 04:23 AM

The redeye makes the picture (really).

Posted by: Andy Freeman at April 8, 2005 05:38 PM
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