The Cup

Max started baseball yesterday.

Not T-ball.

Baseball.

He has been so excited.

We spent time this past weekend getting his new baseball bag all ready.

Bat, Mit, Balls, Helmet, Cleats, Uniform, and...the Cup.

Britton got him in his little skibbies,

the ones that are sewn to hold the Cup properly.

He giggled and danced around the way 5 year old boys do.

He stopped, looked Britton square on, and said,

"Kick me."

Britton said, "No Buddy, I'm not going to kick you."

Max giggled again, "Kick me." 

(Pointing to the Cup)

Britton gave him a gentle kick, laughing himself.

Max busted up again.

Pause.

Think.

Think.

Think.

Then said, "What happens if the ball hits me in the stomach instead?"