Sporting Dilemnas

Had an interesting experience yesterday. Dane's baseball coach left a message on our answering machine reminding us that Dane had practice at 6 p.m. and added,

"Tell Dane to wear his cup."

Dane doesn't have a cup. I didn't think I had actually ever seen one before. I decided that Don, deep in a meeting at work an hour's drive away, was likely going to be very little help, so I picked the kids up at school, dropped Deanna off at home, then stopped by a friend's house and left the boys in the car.

"Can I speak privately with you?" I asked when she answered the door. I noticed a surprised look on her face, but she very graciously ushered me in. I'm sure she probably thought I was coming to tell her some horrible thing had happened that involved our sons (she has a boy in Dane's class that has pitched for several years).

I quickly explained my predicament. She laughed.

"Don't worry, Patti," she said, "you should have seen ME the first time I bought one. I took every one out of the box, shook it all out, held it up, and looked it over. The people at the store probably thought I was crazy."

If they did, craziness in this area must run rampant amongst mothers. Thankfully, she gave me some tips, and we headed to the Sporting Goods store.

Dane now has an awesome pair of slider shorts with all the necessary safety parts and a spare pair of just the essentials that could pass as bikini underwear on his younger brother. Unfortunately, I don't think they let you return those items. The sad part is the one that doesn't fit cost $15 and a store employee helped us pick it out, promising it would fit perfectly.

Maybe HE ought to spend some time opening packages and examining the product.