Things I Don't Understand

1.  Splinters.  I do not understand splinters.  Well, I guess I understand splinters, but I do not understand why my offspring would rather walk around with a 2x4 in their foot than just letting me dig around and pry the sucker out with my ultra dull tweezers get it out.  I also do not understand why the Feds didn't show up at my house 20 minutes ago when they heard the deafening screams of my child as I sat on him and performed minor surgery.  If I was a Fed, I would've showed up.  For sure.

2.  People Who Spend More On Outfitting Their Child For Baseball Than On Their Mortgage.   All of our boys play baseball.  It's in their blood.  I'm pretty sure if you look hard enough you can see their body parts seamed together with tough red stitching.  And that's all well and fine.  Because I'm the first to admit that I'm all about some baseball and some fence-climbing cheering calmly from the sidelines.  But I'm super proud to admit that we are not some of those baseball parents.  Sawyer played in a tournament yesterday with his little traveling team, and we looked like the Bad News Bears out there.  While our little hand-me-down uniforms stayed half-untucked and our cleats stayed untied, the other teams there sported their F.A.I.N.C.Y. spun-with-gold-by-the-Dalai-Lama-himself uniforms, matching team bat bags, and matchy glittery personalized batting helmets.  Oy.Vey.  I'll take scrappy and grass-stained, thank you very much.

3.  Personal Trainers.  I guess I shouldn't hold Jennie-From-Hades-the-Trainer responsible.  I, after all, am paying her the husband's hard-earned cash to practice medieval torture methods on me, but I don't understand why she has to be so serious.  Like when she said, "No eating out for 3 weeks.  Just order water."  Whahuh?  Water?  Holy Roman Hydrogen, Batman, this is going to be a long month.

4.  The Husband.  He has an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon tomorrow.  For a surgery consultation on his knee.  SURGERY.  Did you hear me?  Let me repeat, because evidently the concept is hard to understand...at least for the husband....SURGERY.  But yet, he felt compelled to sign up for the church softball team when they called a couple of nights ago.  Makes perfect sense to me.  Go out with a bang, I guess.  Literally.

5.  Boys Who Want Mohawks.  Yep. I'm still skirting around that one.  As of right now, Sawyer still has a head full of hair.  And for those of you who asked:  No, Puck from GLEE's hair is not okay. 

That's All.