Baseball

It's America's favorite pastime.
It's all-American!
There's no crying in baseball!!!

It's not exactly my favorite sport. Not because of the no crying either. We all know that rules were made to be broken, so if I want to cry, I probably will. Because I tend to be overly emotional. It's who I am. Take it or leave it.

Mostly, I just think baseball is a long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long game. Nine "longs" for nine innings. However, instead of being a Negative Nancy I will tell you the things I enjoy about baseball.

I like being outside. It doesn't matter if it's hot and I'm sweating or dripping in the rain or chilly in a jacket (OK, so baseball season in North Carolina doesn't exactly bode well for chilly weather) or in the glaring sun or shady clouds. It's just being outside with friends to people watch and enjoy the weather.

I love the grass. It's pretty and plaid and mowed so nicely.

I like veggie dogs. Except, I like to say a "w" sound for the "v" sound, so I call them weggie dogs. I swear they taste exactly like the real thing. Exactly. Although, it's been probably over 3 years since I had a real hot dog, so you should definitely believe me. And I don't think real hot dogs are Pepto Bismal pink, are they?

I love the players. OK, not love. I lust after the men in their sexy, baseball pants. There's just something about an athlete that I looooove. Confidence? Skills? Legs? Whatever. So if you could find me one of those, I'd take one. Please and thank you.

Speaking of baseball, we went to a baseball themed restaurant for dinner. The restrooms (according to my favorite sister-in-law) were labeled "Catchers" and "Pitchers" instead of "Men" and "Women." I'll let you guess which was which.

Good luck.