For just about everyone else in the country, the coming of fall means the coming of baseball -- playoff baseball, the best time of the year. I desperately looked forward to the possibility of bringing Emmeline to a baseball game when her team, er, my team was in the hunt for the World Series.
I have such fond memories of watching the playoff races with my family -- and even my grandparents -- that I couldn't wait to one day do the same with my daughter.
But I root for the Giants. And this year, they suck. Big time. Not even steroids can help them.
Still, it's good to see at least some people enjoying the nice weather and the ballpark with the kids. We'll be there today -- and yeah, I'll have hot dogs and beer, and I'll give Emme her first taste of garlic fries. And though I know we'll have a great time just being together, I also hope they'll win one for her.
I'm not the only one with baseball on the mind these days.
Training Loving Hearts didn't go to the game, but at least watched on TV -- and peed in the night.
Melissa of "I seriously have to deal with nine months of this?" vows to take her boy, if she has one, to the ballpark. Well ... take a girl too damn it!
