Last night, we went to the ball park to let Little see some friends play ball. It was a disaster, because we missed one child's game, and then had to balance watching two children play at the same time.
I will say that one of the children is one of Little's most favorite people in the entire Milky Way galaxy. Entire. Galaxy.
As we were watching said child play, Little broke and ran from me.
Now, in my defense, I was blocked in from the bleachers and the array of various folding chairs.
So when I was able to break free, I saw Little making a turn at the bleachers, and by the time, I made it to the end of the bleachers, she was gone.
Gone.
I began to hyperventalate. My head is going back and forth looking for my precious Little.
And then I heard it.
"Who's kid is on the field?"
Oh, yes. I knew.
I go through the dugout, weaving in between kids, and there she is.
In the pitcher's circle with her friend.
Unbelievable. And embarassing. And I look irresponsible.
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