Baseball Bitch

Last night was a perfect night for a baseball game. 85 degrees. Sunny. No wind. The only problem is I had two 2-year-olds with me who would rather play in the dirt than watch a baseball game. I thought I was being smart and grabbed one of the leashes, not to use, just to threaten with. I told the kids that if they didn't stay by me they would have to wear the leash, a fate worse than death. Ben tested me and tested me, so I finally had to keep my word. I hooked the leash to his back belt loop. He cried and cried then cried some more.

Me: Benny, this is going to be a long baseball game for all of us if you don't stop crying.

Baseball Bitch: Yes, it is.

First of all baseball bitch, was I talking to you? If you felt the need to chime in as a fellow mother I would have expected something like, "oh, I have been there" or "he isn't bothering me". After all, the reason I am sitting here BY MYSELF with two 2-year-olds is because my husband has VOLUNTEERED to coach your worthless kid!