So, I just googled it and apparently my pals are still technically toddlers which according to Wikipedia is 1-3 years old.  They are toddlers….and they play T-ball.  Sort of.

There is actually not a lot of playing of T-ball that goes on.  There is actually none if I am being honest.  I will tell you what there is a lot of though….crying.  Lots of it.  Not listening…..lots of that too.

I can’t believe they actually line up and pretend to listen to Coach Dylan and Coach Cory.  These two guys deserve a statue in their honor and I cannot for the life of me figure out how they got roped into this gig.  It has got to be community service of some sort…or maybe they lost a giant bet.

They actually do put the ball on the “T” and hit it.  Each kid gets about 834 tries and 833 of those swings make perfect contact with the “T” but I have seen it happen.  I have seen contact and it was brilliant.  L.A. did it on his 834th attempt.  It was amazing.

Eden just looked damn cute in her giant bows.

There use real balls.  They use metal bats.  There are no helmets.  There is no order.  Not an ounce of order.  If you are watching it from across the street it probably looks like 16 three and four year old’s have been dipped in honey and are running from a swarm of angry bee’s.  Coach Cory told L.A. to run to first base and he did, he really did, but he kept going…and going…all the way to the playground on the opposite side of the park.

My favorite part was when my pals got into a fight on second base.  They did not want to share it.  Eden refused to leave and go to third so L.A. took matters into his own hands and whopped her with his “ball bag”.  Yes, that is what he calls his mitt….his “ball bag”.  Then they both cried….and cried and cried.  Then Mom almost cried.

2 weeks down, 6 to go.  Wish us luck.