So I totally jacked a home-run off Parker the other night and then showed him up with my fancy bat flip and home-run trot. I probably shouldn't be proud of this, but I hit the crap out of his pitch - and I was psyched.
I should probably explain. When the little man and I head into the basement we basically have a modern day decathlon (baseball, football, soccer, volleyball, basketball, hockey, track (although not field) and wrestling - I guess it's actually a octtahlon). Anyway, I don't actually know what got over me on the baseball thing. We were sitting there and I was pitching and PK was batting. There were couple of things I had to straighten him out while he was batting. First, I own the inside of the plate. He was starting to crowd the plate a little, so I tossed one right at him - you know, just to brush him back a little. The other lesson I had to teach him was that I was not afraid to mix up my pitches a little and throw a little junk followed up by a fastball just to throw his timing off a little.
Anyway, after I established my pitching dominance, he wanted to pitch and he wanted me to bat. All I can figure is that there's a little pent of frustration (is frustration pent or bent?) that PK seems to have a little trouble listening these days. More accurately, he's having A LOT of trouble listening (at least to me) - as in - his ears don't seem to function at all. So perhaps that was playing a roll, because on Parker's first pitch, I absolutely jacked it out of the park. "YEAH! WHO'S YOUR DADDY?" And then I did my little home run strut.
And honestly, he didn't care, within the next five minutes we were on to our next event (wrestling), but it did make me think 'did I seriously just show up son?'
Conclusions. One, maybe I'm just a little too competitive. Two, I was the big winner - I totally dominated.
