I wasn’t going to sign up again this year for the church softball team. I knew I would be the oldest player. But then my daughter thought that she might join. Austen doesn’t play softball, she plays soccer. I had no problem signing up as soon as I knew that Austen was interested. Duh, what mother in her non-menopausal moments would miss an opportunity to share some silly times with her 17-year-old daughter. And it has been silly…like the ONE time I caught a fly ball in the outfield for the third out. Austen scooped me up onto her back for our victory return to the dugout. She leaned forward and we kept going faster and faster. Austen’s legs gave out under my extra weight and we both plunged forward onto the ground. What I remember most–after the laughing stopped–is her helping me up and asking if I was hurt. Tender mixed with silly. I would sign up for that any day.
