
Sarah: "What, how did you get that?"
Wes: "It bounced off the hand of the guy behind us (guy standing up with green shirt on) and dropped right between me and the guy next to me. I snagged it!"
Sarah: "Do you want to give it to one of the kids around us?" (Maybe one of the kids with his mitt desperately trying to catch the ball).
Wes: "What?"
Sarah: "You don't want to give it to a kid, do you? You want to keep it."
Wes: "I want to keep it for Cash." (Who he's holding as he catches the ball).
Sarah: "Riiiiight. For Cash."
That's how it went. Wes turns to the guy behind him (who is actually looking a bit disappointed), holds the ball up, and says, "Thanks." For a second the guy thinks Wes is giving him the ball and puts up his hands to catch it (no lie), realizes that's not happening, and just laughs. The guy next to us and his dad move seats. Wes is beaming. His first fly ball. In the car on the way home I heard him tell Cash, "No, Cash, that's Dad's ball." (I think he was joking, but since we got home it's been sitting on our shelf, out of Cash's reach).
So, we've been cracking up about this since Monday night. And today my friend Michal sends me an e-mail that her parents saw us on the front page of the Sports section Tuesday night, trying to catch a fly ball! I find the photo online and proceed to cry uncontrollably for about 5 minutes. Look at the little children desperately holding out their mitts for their first fly ball! Look at the child to the left of us looking so mad that it didn't come his way. The guys behind us who so badly want to catch that ball. Cash, oblivious to what is happening. Me, hiding to avoid a bruiser. Then the guy next to Wes--the guy he snagged it from--who at this moment is still thinking, "I've got it!" Then look at our boy, Wes, holding his son out of harm's way, mouth open in look of determination, hand overtaking that of the guy next to him, superhuman bicep bulging, a look that says, "I will catch this ball." Yep, that's my husband.