This week is March Madness, and anyone that knows my husband knows that this is VERY VERY IMPORTANT. Actually, Mizzou is playing as I type and I am avoiding the basement.
It's a little much for me.
Anyway, since today is the last official weekday of my spring break, I talked David (and Brett, our basketball-driven houseguest) into doing something, anything with me before the games started at 11.
I decided that we needed to hit up the batting cages.
David and I will be on a softball league (or two, maybe) this summer, and I'm all about no embarrassing myself if at all possible. Plus, it was a dude friendly suggestion.
I look ready to dominate the balls. David looks silly.
But not as silly as Brett!
Ha... that hat is too small.
Anyway, I managed to hold my own with the boys...for the first 4 pitches. Then I popped one up and then tripped on the ball while swinging for number 5. Ooops. David had a panic attack. Apparently, it's not safe to be collapsed on the ground in a batting cage when you still have 15 more pitches and no way to stop them. Oh yeah, and I had David's glasses in my pocket...and then they fell on the ground.
David was screaming.
I told David that we could never have kids if he's going to freak out like that about every little thing.
(that's a joke, everyone. Calm down.)
All said, I got out with only minor scrapes...
See the little dot on my ankle?
Do you know how hard it is to take a picture of your own ankle?