Because that's what moms do
Enjoyed a lovely day with the family at a major league baseball game today.
(Our team won.)
At one point in the game, I was focused on cracking open a peanut shell when I heard the familiar sound from the crowd that signaled a foul ball.
I glanced up, saw everyone gazing skyward, and searched the air frantically for where the ball might be headed.
Always afraid of getting beaned on the noggin, you know.
Okay, there. It landed up on the next level.
I relaxed.
And realized I'd been holding my hands over Yonger Son's 10-year-old head.
Not my head.
His.
Because that's what moms do.
2 comments:
When I stop short, I find myself flinging my right arm in front of my son who rides shot gun. Like my arm will do more for him than his seatbelt. Great. And my Mom did the same thing...
Bou: Yup, that's also what moms do!
::nodding knowingly::
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