My beard and I are having a hard time keeping up with all this talking, let alone replying to anyone.
And you log off? That's all we get?
You're better than that. That's ridiculous.
I'm off to go lead a team of 8-10 year olds in glorious defeat on the ballfield.
True story - this team is pretty bad, but we got a new player the other day. I was told we'd be getting a ten-year-old. "Thank God", I thought, "We desperately need an experienced kid on this team!"
He shows up.
He's never played baseball before. He throws like a four-year-old girl. He's terrified of the baseball. He swings a bat like he's gently wafting it through mud, literally seconds after the ball has passed him by.
Oh, and he has a club foot.
"I want you to treat him like every other player," his Dad says.
I would, kind sir, except every other player
is at least physically capable of locomotion from one base to the next.
But he's a special little snowflake like all of these little bastards, so I'm practicing my "That's OK, great job trying buddy!" face extra hard in the mirror today.