Do you see the stick in his hand? It's not a stick! It's a bat. Everything is a bat. Flash cards, his stick pony, rolled up napkins, spoons, clothes hangers, etc. Yes, even Sunday School toys, so we've been told. It's not because he doesn't own a bat. He has five (two at his grandparent's house) to be exact. It's because I have banned all bats and balls from inside, before he breaks something. I now throw imaginary balls and call plays all day long. Fun. This weekend while staying with my parents, he asked my mom to throw him a "slow ball". He swung his bat slow and then ran off in slow motion. Watch replays much? The boy LOVES baseball. Of course, his dad loves this. Even his sister will throw an imaginary ball his way every now and then. He knows some of the players names. He knows the terminology... foul ball, strike one, home run, double play. He even bunts and slides!
He is a talker. Non-stop. We can even have conversations, of course they are about baseball, but nonetheless. At three years old he loves hot wheels, playing in the dirt, chocolate milk, driving the "car" at Publix, Little Caesar's pizza, riding over the "seed bumps" at daddy's office, singing and kissing his baby sister good night. His favorite song at the moment is The Number Two by They Might Be Giants. His favorite number most days is four. His favorite color (today) is red and his favorite person as always is daddy. As my dad always says, "what a boy".
