Things and places, people and faces

It's things and then it's places
Not people and their faces - PIL, Happy?

It was dark. Too dark when I walked into my son's room to get him up for our trip to the Little League World Series. I turned his fan off and opened his shade. Not that any light came in as it was 5:30 AM and we needed to be on the road by 6:00.

"Time to wake up, Drew. It is time to go Williamsport."

Well, we hit the road right on time and I had nearly everything I needed save some gas (I also forgot to bring cash, but that is another story) and we hit Starbucks to get a caffeine fix for the ride down. Drew remarked at how chipper the person was who gave me my iced latte and him his mocha Frappuccino.

"Drew, don't worry about using your gift card. I got this one."

We had no idea what to expect as we arrived at the park and we got a good parking spot. We walked up to the stadium complex and, eventually, found our seat for the 11:00 AM game. The stadium was to fill up as we sat admiring the place, smiling when the teams took the field. It was all rather overwhelming that I was there. I mean I had seen the games so many times on TV growing up and even recently. And there I was. With my son. With MY son. My son. I could never say that enough.

"Watch the catcher Drew. He's got quite an arm."

"Look at those idiots sliding down the hill with the big piece of cardboard."

We broke for lunch and even played some games in the Family Fun Zone. We made our way back into the stadium for the 3:00 PM game and had a hard time finding some seats that were not taken. This was a game between two American teams and there were plenty of people that camped out the entire day in the same seats. We were making our way behind home plate when I saw an usher with his hand raised displaying the number four with his fingers. He was yelling "Four! Four! Four! Four!" I asked him if we could take two. He nodded and quickly yelled, "Two! Two! Two! Two!" We were sitting one row back from the parent's section of the West team that was playing the Mid-Atlantic that afternoon. ESPN was there and we tried our best to get on TV.

"Look at these seats, Drew. We are certainly blessed to have them."

"Don't bother with the eclipse. The sun is behind the clouds."

Well, a thundershower moved through and shut the games down for a time and we had to make a mad dash to our car to get home at a reasonable hour. We found an eat-in Pizza Hut (he wanted to try the stuffed crust pizza - it was certainly good enough) and we sat down and ordered.

"Do you want the last piece of pizza, Dad?" (I didn't. He did.)

We talked. He read. We tanned and played. We laughed and stared at each other wide-eyed. We looked at the eclipse and tried to walk forward with the eclipse glasses on. Through it all it was all about him. And us. I think that we could have had just as much fun if we went bird watching or even (gasp!) rollerskating. After all, he was there. I was there. We were there. I was there with my son.

My son. 

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