I took my eight year old son to the field to play a little baseball. If you remember last time we played, he was the pitcher and I was the batter. He nearly knocked my head off with one of his wild pitches, so I thought it would be best if I was the pitcher this time.
I threw a pitch. He hit it - way off into left field. He ran around all the bases. "Home run!" he shouted as I ran to retrieve the ball.
I pitched again (I know - not how the game is supposed to go!). He hit the ball - high into the outfield. And again he ran around the bases. "Home run! Two to nothing!"
This continued until it was 21 to nothing.
"Mom, you're really bad at this game!" he said.
"No, Bubba. I'm really good. I'm the perfect pitcher!"
On another note, I'd like to wish all of my American friends, a very Happy Fourth of July!