What if I told you my son asked if I wanted to go throw the baseball? I think we were both dying to do something sports related, so I said “yes.” Didn’t want to stand in the yard (scared of breaking the window), so I suggested we go across to Knightdale High.

Figured all the cates would be locked to the fields, and they were, so, still desperate to throw, I suggested we just throw in the parking lot, just to do something. On about the third throw, he throws one that went off my glove. It was a lazy glove, I’ve never played baseball https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/... draggable="false" alt="🤷🏾‍♂️" title="Man shrugging (medium dark skin tone)" aria-label="Emoji: Man shrugging (medium dark skin tone)">

I turn around and half a** jog to get the ball. first thought was it was going to pop off the curve. Three steps in I noticed a drain and suddenly think “oh crap!” So I pick up the pace, now in a full sprint! Ball goes right in the drain like an 8-ball in the corner pocket.

I don’t even want to turn around and look at him. When I do he’s looking back at me like

I can’t even make eye contact. I’m walking back to him like

I’ve never felt like I let my son down more in his life.