The Cup

It’s baseball season and both boys are playing Little League. I love this season. I like baseball, the weather is getting warmer and I enjoy spending time with the other parents we’ve gotten to know over the past seasons. This year our oldest son is playing in the “eight year-old division” which means that half way through the season the kids will pitch instead of the coaches. This hardly seems possible when just two short years ago they could barely find first base let alone catch a ball. But they are ready and watching them play baseball each year is an incredible marker of just how fast they are growing.

At the beginning of the season our coach sent out an e-mail reminding us that kids will be pitching and when this time arrives they should be equipped with a “cup”. I  promptly forward this information along to my husband; not my department! My husband embraces this opportunity to take a father-son trip to prepare for this new season. Of course there is no budget limit for all this enthusiasm and our slugger comes home with baseball pants, belt, sunglasses, eyeblack, socks, compression shorts for sliding into bases and lastly “the cup”. He’s ready.

For weeks the cup resides in his closet and for good reason; it looks enormous and incredibly uncomfortable. I forget all about it until the afternoon of the first “kid-pitch” game when he informs me that he can’t wear his cup because it is too big and too uncomfortable. There is panic…there is anxiety…I can’t wear it….if I don’t have a cup the coach won’t let me play….do I have to wear it?….I can’t wear it!!!

“Listen,” I tell him, “we have plenty of time before the game. I’ll take you to Dick’s Sporting Goods and we’ll get you what you need.” He calms down as I wonder how I’m going to pull this off. I have no idea how to buy one of these things. Wasn’t this under my husband’s jurisdiction? Thank goodness he hasn’t reached the stage where he would find this ordeal incredibly embarrassing. By the way does anyone else find this phrase funny….I bought my son a cup at Dick’s.  Fortunately we get the cup and after a lot of “adjustment” we get to the game. Mission accomplished.

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