I was lucky enough to get to celebrate Father’s Day with the two best Daddy’s I know – mine and my kids’. I had the genius idea that we would all go to a Dragon’s Game. The Dragons are the minor league baseball team in town, and doesn’t that just sound like the perfect way to spend Father’s Day?
Everybody who goes to a Dragon’s game gushes about what a great way to spend family time, what a fun time we had, how cheap that was, etc., etc.
So, I convince everyone (me, Ben, our two kids and my parents visiting from out of town) to head to a baseball game where we could spend 40 dollars to sweat in the hot sun and watch a boring sport, when, yes, now that you mention it, one third of us are two young to even know what baseball is.
Also, by the way, now that you mention it, I do hate baseball. And I hate being hot. And I just spent a month sticky and sweating in 90-plus degree heat and to make up for that, I now spend my days thinking of indoor activities so that I don’t have to bake in the sun.
As we were unloading the car, a kind older gentleman approached Simon and asked him if he was going to the baseball game.
Simon: Yup!During the walk to the ball park, Simon reminded us that he doesn’t like clapping or music. Or dragons.
Nice Old Man: Are you going to see Heater the Dragon?
Simon (starting to crumple with fear): There’s going to be dragon’s there????
Nice Old Man: Yes! Two of them! Heater and Gem!
Simon: Dragons are mean – I don’t want to see any dragons…. (verge of tears)
We were an inning late, so we had to squeeze our blanket around 4 other families in the lawn section, and pile onto it, perched precariously onto the steep hill. About 6 seconds later, we all were dripping with sweat and I was looking around for water. Four minutes after that, I had already broken out the snacks. Two innings later, we began the “When do we go home” discussions. Two more innings went by before we took a walk in the shade and ate ice cream. One inning after that we were out of there.
Dad swears he had a good time, and Ben didn’t make me feel stupid about thinking this was actually going to work out well. Pretty much nothing says Happy Father’s Day like an afternoon at the ballpark.