So we pack a picnic dinner and head down to the fields.
Tonight it's for a Marlin's game.
We watch the boys warm up.
Poor outfielder. Just waiting for some action.
Laughing with Joe, our trusty, and oh so fair, umpire.
Asher tends to get slightly animated.
His competitive spirit can sometimes get the better of him.
Winning=happiness. Losing=complete devastation.
We talk lots about playing for the glory of God, not just to win.
Love the concentration here.
And the batting face.
Getting a little pep talk from the third base coach.
Graham's a lefty, and very proud of it.
He's not a power hitter, but he gets on base (most) every time.
Then we get to spend our treat tickets and goof around while we wait for Daddy to stop talking baseball.
When I was little, I remember standing and waiting for my mother to leave church. We were often the last ones. My mom liked to say hi to everyone.
Chris is the same way at the baseball field.
I love that about him.
Teammates and best friends.
Yesterday Asher sobbed (really, uncontrollable crying) for 10 minutes when I told him this was the last time he and Graham could play on the same team. Sweet, isn't it?
Messing around. Tasting each others snacks.
Did you wonder where he was?
He's always up to trouble, face covered with sugar.
And a big smile.
Just another night at the ballpark.