I Came. I Saw. I Heckled.

Revenge is sweet.

Dirty Harry, as you know if you’re a regular visitor to my blog, plays baseball, and he made All-Stars.  This week the team has been playing in our district tournament, and we’ve been doing really well.  As a matter of fact, last night we played for the championship.  We lost, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.  It still hurts a little….especially since we lost in extra innings.  Because our home town was hosting this event, the stands were extraordinarily crowded, and since I’m always lugging a large stroller, a diaper bag, several folding chairs, and a large iced coffee from McDonald’s, I decided that we would try sitting out behind the left field fence.

Our view was very good, and it wasn’t until we were stationed out there that I thought about the fact that we were directly behind Dirty Harry’s position of left field.  And it wasn’t until we were out there for a while that I realized this was my golden opportunity to heckle him to death.

Oh, and heckle I did.

Hustle Harrison!  Are your feet made of lead?

Catch the ball! 

Use two hands!

Throw it in!

Second base!  Second base!

After a while I realized there was no reason to limit my comments to just baseball.  This was my chance to let it all out, to let him know how I feel about…well…everything/

Clean your room, #13!

Don’t leave your underwear on the bathroom floor!

Your handwriting is atrocious!

I still have nasty scars and stretch marks from when I carried you and brought you into the world!

He couldn’t do anything about it.  He had to just stand there and play left field and take it like a man.  But play he did!  That boy caught almost half a dozen fly balls!  Which only made me think I should heckle him more often.

I am sorry about blogging about baseball so much, but we really haven’t done much else lately.  It is consuming our lives…..or ruining it in Bonny Annie’s estimation.  Speaking of Bonny Annie, she was at the game in left field with me too…

She reads her Harry Potterbooks, makes trips to the concession stand for Icees, and complains about being there.  I have to heckle her too.

Stop you’re bellyaching!  Do you know how many Nutcracker performances your brother has had to sit through?!

I don’t think she heard me.

Cap’n Jack Henry was there as well.

He’s a heckler too.

Get the ball, Bubby!  Get it!

Throw him out!

And then it turned ugly, and he started heckling me…

Get me off this ballfield, woman!  I’ve been on a baseball field for half my life!

Take this silly bib off of me!

Where is my pacifier?!

Clearly I’m going to have to use a different tactic with this one.  Heckling, I believe, will get me nowhere.