"I Can't Wait"

The weather outside may be frightful (eight degrees, wind coming out of the northwest, you do the windchill), but Clare is getting ready to sign up Leo for t-ball in the spring. Sticker shock made both for an unpleasant surprise and a quick decision. Apparently, hoity-toity suburban t-ball costs an arm and a leg; by volunteering to help run the program, a parent saves a leg. My daughter is nothing if not Halas-like with her finances. So, she’s going to help. No, let me rephrase that. She’s going to help coach. She told me yesterday from the kitchen during the first or second batch of snicker doodles. “I can’t wait to see what the dads will say when they see a mom coaching their sons,” Clare offered while pulling duty as assistant baker to Michele. Well, if they’re smart, they’ll keep their mouths shut and be thankful somebody who knows how to hit—and is already teaching her son—can impart some building-block wisdom onto their kids. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a bunch of mini- Bronx Bombers come May.