Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Little league baseball season can wreak havoc on a household, much like runaway eyebrows cause mayhem in my appearance.
All three of my children played on a team this year, creating a complication in schedules that would have made Mr. Rubik cry for mercy. Nightly practices intermixed with ballgames three nights a week presented a transportation and supervisory challenge to our family unit containing only two parents.
Often, I would watch one child at one field, while relying solely on the eyes in the back of my head to monitor another. Stationed at the third field was my husband, pile of medical charts beside him on the bleachers, catching up on the office notes cut short for baseball. It wasn't the most perfect of systems in place, but the best we could offer because we are simply outnumbered by the offspring.
Supper proved to be another issue during those nights that began at 5:00 pm and didn't end until well after eight. Our meals didn't come anywhere close to that smug food pyramid that makes every mom feel like a nutritional loser. Some nights it was a hotdog from the concession stand, and when we had reached reasonable quota of Oscar Mayer, it was a well-balanced combo of jumbo dill pickle with a side of Cheetos, filling stomachs that longed for a leafy vegetable.
My husband often rolled his eyes as I fretted out loud in the stands, while eating yet another bag of Doritos, that our children were only a few Flintstone vitamins away from baseball induced Rickets. (Mr. Concession Stand Guy, it could really help a mother out of if you would consider a few dairy products and maybe a banana or two in your selections next time. What's wrong with a glass of milk in between innings?)
Baseball season has joyfully come to a close, and we are slowly reintroducing vegetables to our dietary regime. It has been a methodical and purposeful process in order to counteract the onset of preservative withdrawals. And when the twitching and gagging does occur, we just offer a handful of Cheetos, waiting for the additive levels to stabilize, and start all over again.
(Sing to the tune of Take Me Out To The Ballgame)
It’s supper again at the ballgame
Time to eat with the crowd
Give me some Peptol and strong prozac
‘Cause my sanity may never come back
Let me root, root, root for some loose change
Concessions exceed my price range
For I’m one, two, three hot dogs out
From a gastronomic exchange.