This week in baseball news:
With one full week of practicing batting, Elijah got an unassisted
hit. Which resulted in an immediate trip
to the toy store and an immediate rejection of all additional practice. Because he already knows how to hit now.
In non baseball news, Eli got devoured by a bug. His back, butt, legs and feet were covered in
red welts. Hundreds of them. Enough that he convinced Diana to stay home
from school.
When I got home later that evening, Diana uttered the worst
word in the world: BEDBUGS. I turned on
my heel and walked out of the house, never to return again. But then I realized I loved my family and
agreed to return so long as I got to wear my Reynolds Wrap suit 24 hours a day.
Diana scheduled some eco friendly Bedbug company to do an
inspection. Eco friendly? How does that work? Do they make the bugs feel bad? Do they use emotional abuse? Feel free to think of me delivering that
paragraph with a sport coast and microphone in front of a brick background.
Anyway, the bug guy showed up at Saturday just when we got
back from baseball. I found him spraying
stinky liquid all over the house. I
said, “Oh. You found bedbugs, huh? I have to move away, now?”
“Oh no. I didn’t find
bedbugs.”
“Then…what are you doing?”
I asked, becoming more and more suspicious of this guy randomly spraying
poison in my house.
“Spraying for bedbugs.”
“Uh huh,” I said, reaching for Eli’s baseball bat.
“Your wife said to spray for them anyway.”
“Oh. That makes sense
if you know her. Does that spray kill
anything besides bedbugs?”
He peered into the hose.
“Not really. Maybe a spider.”
But this stuff that kills bedbugs and not much else
apparently kills humans and dogs because the man said we would all be better
off if we stayed away for the next three hours.
After I paid him.
Three hours is a very long time when you have two exhausted
children and no sunscreen.
We ended up leaving Grover with the neighbors and I took the
boys to The Firehouse bar. Where I drank
two pints of poison.
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