Davidball

David loves baseball.

I say that sometimes and I get an, "Oh, that's nice" response.

Maybe if I write it in caps ...

David LOVES baseball.

We will play for hours in the backyard -- sometimes he'll just "work" on something specific: bunting, sliding, hitting from both sides of the plate, pitching. And sometimes we will play "real" games.

Now, he may love (LOVE) baseball, but he's also only 5.

And he understands the rules enough to manipulate them to his advantage so he doesn't lose.

He gets 100 balls and 100 strikes.

A recent game score: Me - 1, Him - 119

If he hits the ball in the shed, it counts for 5 points.

There is no such things as a foul, unless I am at bat.

I have to simultaneously touch him and the base for it to be an out.

If he slides into second, he is automatically safe.

It always reminds me of Calvinball from Calvin and Hobbes -- You never know when the rules are going to change. Or what the new rules will be.

(neat fact: David's middle name was to be Hobbes, after the tiger, until I mentioned it to people near the end of my pregnancy and everyone told me how much they hated it. Never tell hormonal, pregnant women that you hate anything.)

Which is why Kate and her magic wand (a stick she "swish-de-swooshes" to turn it magical) fits in so nicely too. And makes Davidball even more interesting.

If Kate uses her magic wand on the ball, it is an automatic home run.

If she is holding her magic wand, she can go from first to third.

If she "swish-de-swooshes" the ball with her wand while the pitcher is holding it, it is an automatic strike.

Magic Kate will occasionally "steal" bases (here meaning literally pick them up and run with them).

Davidball is actually really fun.

(and how I will be spending my summer)