Comment: Playing with Balls

Okay, get your mind out of the gutter. This is a family program! (Well, okay, most of the time.)

Today the kids, their dad and I went to play at a local park. We brought a mini Nerf football and two autographed-by-someone-old-and-formerly-famous baseballs.

We played what I would loosely call a “baseballesque” game. The bases changed several times, the pitching was erratic, and there was no bat. Also, we took turns out of order. In short, it was fun.

It was kind of funny watching the kids’ dad try to keep things orderly and rational. I told him, don’t expect this game to have consistent rules. (or something to that effect).

We took turns tackling each other with the football. I ran into the woods and scored a touchdown, wherein, technically, I gave the other team a point. (The other team was my husband. He’s six foot three, the rest of us had to stick together.) I did one of those obnoxious victory dances and threw down the football with great élan.

Then we tried more baseball, but my daughter still wanted to keep tackling her dad.

This is the kind of fun we never get enough of. We don’t make enough time in our lives to just hang out. No rules, no keeping score. Just fun. I don’t want my young kids to worry about winning yet. They’ll learn all about that soon enough. Keeping score? They’ll get to it. Joining a team? Only if they’re interested.

For now we’re happy that our sports are basically absurdist. The carefree nature of pure, unbridled enthusiasm and excitement only lasts so long.