It's Over, It Really Is

Can I just say...baseball is over for Monkeyboy. No, really it is. It was supposed to be over last night. But, alas, it wasn't.
First of all, it has been hotter than hell any summer that I remember. I mean, come on. It's been 90 degrees for a zillion days. And the humidity has been as high as it can be without raining. Let me just say...J's hair can't take it. It's long, naturally curly and very thick. Enough said.
And S. smiles, and says she feels sorry for us in the butterfly room...which, did I mention...was 94 degrees with humidity of 3,000 degrees.
The butterflies don't even like it. I won't go into that, though.
OK, so it was hot. Stinking hot. And last night was the final game. thank goodness, I am SICK of it We all assembled our chairs, watched with anticipation as the sky grew darker. Of all nights, they were calling for horrible storms. Not to worry, they weren't to happen until after 10:00. liars, all weathermen are liars
First inning. Not good. They got lots of walks and a run. We got nothing. Sky getting darker.
Trip to the concession stand for Bean and I. Female appearing to be on drugs takes our order. She keeps repeating it as she adds it up in her head. I, who have not had dinner, have a large order...mistake!!!!
Bean and I make our way back to the row of chairs. Uh, oh, switching pitchers. Monkeyboy is called to the mound. Texting (hard to do with two dogs, coke, nachos, slushy) to let Bird know. No response from him.
Hot dogs were cold (long walk). Ketchup everywhere. Monkeyboy doing his thing...very well, if I do say so. Bird pulls up on Harley. Sky darkens even more. Ready to start third inning....what is that? Lightening? OH NO. Score...4-0 other team.
No one wants the second dog...I don't blame them. I know, children in the world are starving. Into the garbage.
Apparently, one lightening strike delays game for 20 minutes. Whoops, here comes the second strike. Are those bats flying around? I do believe they are.
Rain starts. Not just rain, but wind. Bird checks the weather on his trusty cell phone. Looks like we are on the edge. No......wait, THEY ARE CALLING THE GAME.
OMG, what is a tornado size wind little wind and a monsoon a little rain? Come on, toughen up. People racing to cars...Bird to motorcycle. Hmmm.
People pray for him, wish him luck, tell Mippy to check insurance and we are on our way. We follow Bird while he fishtails his way home. He makes it...whew.
Fast forward. Game tonight...well, now it is last night. Game to be at 7:00. We arrive at 6:30. Kids warm up. No umpire. It's windy. Cold front has passed through. 7:30. No umpire. Mippy wants hot chocalate. I want a blanket. Kids, now running about, rolling on the field. Parents getting grumpy. 7:45, no umpire. Coach trying to contain kids. Not working.
8:00. No umpire. They decide to let someone ump.......but wait, sun is blinding batter. Have to wait till it drops behind trees. I use the covers for the chair over my arms to keep warm. Some selfish lady has a corduroy jacket AND a blanket.......DO YOU THINK SHE COULD SHARE........NOOOOOO.
Some kind man offers me a blanket from a senior citizens home. I grab it, thanking him profusely. FINALLY, the game begins. Monkeyboy on the mound. Holds the other team. Our boys are pumped. We are shivering.
We win...bottom line....we win. By a lot. Our guys did great.
I just want to go home. Take pictures, get trophies, get in the car. Monkeyboy and dad are in a different car and are stopping at MickeyD's.
MR, Bean, Mippy and I decide to get donuts. Krispy Kreme's sound good. We race towards the highway. OMG, they are closed! It is only 9:30 and they are closed!!!! Not to worry...let's try Dunkin Donuts. WHAT THE HECK??? They are closed. OK, we will stop at Giant Eagle. Wait, they have no donuts????? MR suggests cupcakes. No, I want donuts. Onto the next Giant Eagle. Surely they will have them. They do. Whoooohooo. We grab them all and head for the car. I grab one........AND IT IS STALE!!!! I throw it out the window and Mippy tells me I am a poor example for small children. MR is 15, Bean is 14. Bean said that Bird threw a hamburger out the window once. Mippy is still appalled. Who cares? Not I.
Did I mention that Monkeyboy's team came in first. What a night. I have to go to bed now. Phipps should be cooler tomorrow, J's hair should be good. It's a good night.