American Pasttime

Last night, under clear blue skies that became starry skies, our family took part in a favorite American pasttime, over-indulging at a baseball game. Our daughter Mia had gyro, French fries, sodas and ice cream. Russell had hot dogs (on purpose) French fries and over-priced beer while munching shell peanuts. I had strawberrries and shell peanuts while sharing Russell’s over-priced beer.

We cheered our local team when they hit, ran and eventually won the game after extra innings and then enjoyed the fireworks before making our way home. We sat near an adorable fifth grade boy who cheered and danced with way through the 11 innings catching both a cup holder and a baseball as he munched on cob corn and screamed at the players. The other people around us ate nachos, sweet nuts, ice cream, popcorn, hotdogs, beers, mixed drinks, more hotdogs, cotton candy, soda, more beer and I assume, antacids. The American pastime of eating and baseball are synonymous with good and time. Play ball!