'Cause It's Root, Root, Root for the Yankees

 

For days leading up to their first ever MLB game we sang one song and one song alone: take me out to the ball game. Walking down the street--take me out to the ball game. In the shower--take me out to the ball game. Family Home Evening--take me out to the ball game. Normally a song sung a million times in three days would get annoying, but there was so much excitement in those two that I sang, sang along. T's only concern was the whole "root, root, root for the home team" part. "Um, Mom," he said sounding concerned. "Does Stanford ever come play at Yankees Stadium? Because I vote for Stanford first." I assured him that Stanford wouldn't be coming to the Bronx anytime soon, and he was put at peace over his rooting for those home-team Yanks.

I am not ashamed to say that I picked out all four of our outfits early that morning so that we'd all be sporting Yankees colors. When in Rome, right? Those littles ate up just about every last ounce of the stadium. Talmage, of course, saw every stand full of junk and was sure it was what we all needed to survive while Everett was absolutely mesmerized by the jumbo-trons. I forget how things like stadium chairs and climbing stairs are exciting and fun for sweet first-timers. As soon as we sat down it was game time--and I'm obviously referring to the sack full of sugar I brought for the game. Those boys consumed their body weight worth of nothing during that game, and loved every second of it.

We didn't get around to cracker jacks, but Everett shelled and ate peanuts for most of the third and fourth inning, and cotton candy made it's way to us somewhere in the sixth. Talmage bought the cotton candy all by himself, and was so excited that he almost didn't bring us back change for the $20 (although earth to us, that darn cotton candy didn't produce much change!) Part of the fun of baseball is eating, right? Right. That's why it was totally sensible of us to get ice cream cones on the way home.

 

The game got a little slow at times {T: So let me get this straight. Baseball is when all those guys just stand around on a field?} so we entertained ourselves by taking selfies. Everett thinks that he's putting his thumb up when he holds up his pointer, and I don't ever want it to change. Ever! We didn't last for all nine, but we made sure that we were there for the seventh inning stretch. And you better believe that those two little ones belted it out. Trust me, they had practiced!