Category Archives: Mr. Boy

Game ball

Mr. Boy got the game ball after his Muckdogs beat the Mudcats 15 to 12. He was pleased, of course. The coach said it was for his good hitting, all three big ones. The Muckdogs are now 3-1 for the Little League season.

A serious incident

Speaking of being written up as violence-prone in elementary school these days, Mr. B. is right on the cusp of a serious encounter with the system. It’s March, and after almost eight months of public school’s regimen, he’s starting to show signs of, shall we say, impatience. Meaning we had a little visit with the principal the other day to learn about what the bureacracy considered "a serious incident." Seems a parent had complained that Mr. B. had threatened to break a kid’s arm if he didn’t stop harrassing him. Adding to another (to my mind) equally fanciful threat to a girl who he said wouldn’t stop chasing him at recess to "drop a car on her head," we had trouble in River City.

The system, presumably inspired by the Colombine massacre and all the other in-school shootings of recent years, considers a threat of bodily harm (even from a skinny 7-year-old who thinks he’s Batman) to be a threat with a capital T. It no longer suffers the normal repartee of little boys. I might add it also only allows them a 30-minute recess three times a week to blow off steam. So we’re not reading Harry Potter (among other things he likes) this week as punishment. So far he’s staying clean. I’m going to start bringing burgers and eating lunch with him once a week to try and help his attitude. Mom will do the same. But I feel sorry for him, having to grow up like this–just another cog in the Nanny State.

Today’s pretty picture

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The Witch Head Nebula, about 1,000 light years away, in honor of Mr. B’s and my reading of Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince, which we are taking slow, since it’s the last one before the concluding book due in July. It’s also got more "kiss-kiss, boy-girl stuff," as Mr. B. calls it with wrinkled nose to show his disgust. So much that I find I have to read around those descriptions, partly because they’re too old for him and partly because he dislikes them anyway. 

Road warriors

Forecast for tomorrow morning’s 30th annual Capitol 10K is cloudy, mid-60s and very humid with spotty showers. Courtesy of LCRA meteorologist Bob Rose who will be running his 18th race. I’ve managed to not run in every one of them, since their inception in 1977, though I have observed many a finish line. This year I believe I’ll vacuum fallen live oak leaves while Mom takes Number One Son to his tennis lessons.

Muckdogs vs Redwings

Mr. B. expects his Muckdogs will lose this afternoon against the Redwings, because the Redwings include a few of his better friends from first grade, and last year’s Rangers’ team, who were/are good players. Looks to me to depend on the hits. None of the little league teams have much defense. So the big-hitting squads will win. Plus, the Redwings don’t have the two secret weapons the Mets had in the Muckdogs’ loss on Wednesday: two pink batting-helmet girls who could hit farther than any of the boys and were pretty good at fielding, too. Game’s at 2:30 pm.

UPDATE  Muckdogs pulled it out, 13 to 12, despite better fielding by the Redwings. Mr. B had one run on three hits. He was stranded once and tagged out at third. But he fielded well.

Culd

That’s how Mr. B. spells club. We must have gone over the correct spelling twenty times, until he was telling me I was boring him by asking again. So then, on the spelling test, he writes culd. No wonder teachers feel like failures sometimes.

Muckdogs lose

It started out to be a crushing defeat for the Muckdogs, but then they started getting hits. Mr. Boy got two, a single and double, but only came in once. Got stranded on the single. And so it went, and they lost 17 to 12. They are now 1-1 for the season, with another game Saturday. One player got so mad when he struck out that he threw a tantrum. Practicing for the pros, I expect. My favorite moment was when the coach on the other team came out to help tie one of his batter’s shoes.