Last night we had a BBQ with some old friends. We are so blessed to have this group. The guys have become close on their own over the years, and we girls have formed our own bond too.
It still amazes me that we produced all of these children. When we first started becoming friends, there were only 2 little ones.
The night carried forward with the dads playing with the children in the backyard. At one point I see Chris trapped in the next door neighbor's yard with the children throwing balls at him. He kept saying, "Ok - enough. Time to stop. Ok, I really mean it this time." He had lost all control and they kept him in that backyard retrieving balls for a while.
Then they all started playing baseball. Dads had a beer in left hand and would pitch, throw and catch with their right hand. Seeing this choked me up because it reminded me of playing with my own dad in the backyard - with a beer (always a Coors Light) in his hand. There was great familiarity and comfort in that moment.
Every few minutes we would hear a loud bang of the plastic bat hitting the ball and shortly after there would be mom, dad and kid cheers from every section of the yard. The kid who hit the ball would run to first base - sometimes left, sometimes right - didn't matter. They were happy.
Lot of sweaty heads and giggles. My kind of night.
I was sitting on a big purple ball in the yard and Cole "backs it up" into my lap and makes himself comfortable. Don't you love it when your kids do that? I do. Too bad I ended up sitting in the rain soaked grass, getting my ass soaked through my jeans. Ah well, it was worth it.
Happy Memorial Day weekend!
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