The Cobb of Tball

I’m not sure if this is possible, but the Kaiser and I slunk of out tball today. Heads hanging in shame, hoping to GOD no one talked to us.

Slunk. Slinked? Slunk.Crawled.

Count Waffles the Terrible (note he’s being called by his full name today) took it upon himself lay out the shortstop of the opposing team on his sprint from 2nd base to 3rd base.

With a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly thinking he was having a blast, he ran directly into said short stop who was doing anything but watching our little Count come near him. On purpose. A mitt went flying, tears were shed. Parents collectively gasped beside us, whispers exchanged…looks our way noted.

Kaiser headed to 3rd to talk to our little angle about his not-so-funny strong arm move and have him say he was sorry to the sobbing shortstop-now draped over his father’s shoulder.

As the Count meekly mouthed an “I’m sorry” the opposing coach yelled “Its ok buddy, it was an accident.”

The Kaiser and I exchanged “accident my ass” glances and silently went forth with watching the final batter.

I'd hide my face too

Game over. Chairs began to fold and mits and bats gathered. We made the loooooooooong walk back to the car, in our heads going over the many possibilities of what to say once in the safety of our minivan.

A discussion was had kids who hurt other kids not being allowed to play tball. Something was said regarding being mean and not nice and it never being ok to knock other kids flat on their butts. Then an awkward minivan silence.

I think, for the most part, it was nothing more than one of those gut wrenching, parental moment where you feel like the biggest failure on earth. YOUR kid was the one everyone was going to talk about YOUR parenting skills (or lack there of) were the ones the mothers were exchanging glances over. How did this happen? What did I do wrong? Was it the lack of discipline that one time he threw that block when he was 2? Was it my hover-mom technique on the playground?

I wanted to drive back to that field and explain to every parent who could hear me “but just last night he wanted to know if snails and slugs and worms had doctors so he could fix the snail shell he ‘accidentally’ crushed earlier,” I wanted to scream “but he’s such a sweeeeeeeeeeeet booooooy”

Instead we kept driving. Another Saturday, another tball life lesson.


  1. Let go of the guilt, you two. I know better when I say you are amazing parents. Now cut that shit out. He’s normal, sweet, intelligent, amazing…the list goes on. He just needs a little steering like every other kid on the planet.

  2. And that other kid is one crappy shortstop.

    (Oh, come ON, I am the mean lady with no kids, so I can say f***ed up stuff like that).

  3. Oh don’t you hate it when you examine the minutae of your child’s behaviour and think you find a trace of possible sociopathic behaviour – and even worse when someone points it out to you – but worstest yet is when you don’t need the microscope or the commentary because it happens in full living colour in front of you and a packed audience.

    Not that I am speaking from experience. Really.

    Oh, okay – but all kids have their moments – I think kids who NEVER blur the lines of behaviour may well be sociopathic in a different way.

    Knock kid over on purpose = something to work on, but not total irrideemable (spelling?) sociopathy.

    One of those lessons in life. At least you took heed rather than blamed the shortstop for deliberately stepping into your darling’s running path.

    But then, parent’s like that don’t know how to do the shame walk gracefully.

  4. I’ve been there…on both sides of that fence. The very first year Hunter played, he was getting knocked on his ass at every game. He never cried, instead he got right back up and continued to play his heart out. Now…fast forward two years later, he’s the kid knocking people over. Only, NEVER on purpose. Okay…once on purpose but that kid was giving him all kinds of hell before hand and had it coming….lol.

  5. Oh they just come hardwired to be their unique little selves! My girl, who is 6, has yet to go through a selfish this-is-mine-so-don’t-you-touch-it-lest-you-wanna-be-my-bitch phase and the boy? He would make the sweetest angel his bitch just because… oy!

    I feel for ya amiga mia!

  6. Testosterone happens.

  7. You know these moments happen to almost everyone right? And you know that good people remember that it could just as easily have been there kid and don’t judge you or your child at all for this. Kids are unpredictable sometimes and I think it is awesome that you didn’t jump to his defense and think it was an accident. If you bury your head in the sand and don’t use it as a teaching moment, then it’s bad. The way you handled it became a learning experience. I understand why you feel bad about this, but you shouldn’t. When I see someone else’s kid do something like that, I always feel sympathy for the parents because I KNOW they are going to go home and feel like you do. You are an awesome mom, and I hope you know that!

  8. LOL! Really, it’s just an age thing. Boys will be Boys and those little ‘smash ’em’ things just happen. And at least you talked to him about it and weren’t like…’You go boy!’ like some parents I’ve seen!

  9. Hah! It builds character! Just kidding lol. It would have been a funny video for You Tube, bet the other kid wasn’t hurt that bad! Still, its good to tell him its wrong lol

  10. Let me be the one to go off on a tangent and say how happy I am that I am not the only one having the “thou shalt NOT knock other children on their arses…. no MATTER WHAT the reason is” conversation with small testosterone filled bodies!

    Now I must go back to sit on the fence and keep score on the running full scale war that my pair are engaged in.

    Bowen refuses to share any of his Thomas the tank engine toys with Ayden. Ayden shares everything. Ayden has learnt to say “no” and won’t shre his toys. Bowen hates that word. Bowen hits Ayden … hard. Mum puts him in time out (and prays for sunshine so she can throw them outside to play). Ayden glares and plots revenge. Bowen forgets all about it and gets totally engrossed in whatever he’s up to now. Ayden king hits him in the back of the head with a steel Thomas the tank engine train.

    I manage not to jump up and start cheering like a cheerleader. I manage not to shout “Woohooo awesome shot Ayden”. I manage severe Mummy face and eyes. I manage to put Ayden in time out (when I really want to hug him and say “well done, that’ll teach the little shit to leave you alone”). I manage not to snicker, chuckle or gloat as I check the back of Bowen’s head for blood or missing pieces of scalp. I am very proud that I bite my tongue and don’t say “sucked in! You deserved that one”.

    I so don’t stand a chance of ever getting any kind of parenting award. I so don’t stand a chance of surviving until they are teenagers. I am reconsidering the idea that two more kids would be great. Who ever said ADHD/ODD and Anxiety would’nt make for lots of wonderful family time and memories?

    Excuse me while I go knock myself unconcious with a brick! LOL

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