Scene: The bleachers in a minor league ballpark. AJ is retrieving the crumbs from the bottom of a bag of Cracker Jack.

AJ: Mommy, when I grow up I want to be a real baseball player.

Harriet: [who had been thinking more along the lines of an astrophysicist or a poet or perhaps a poetic astrophysicist] That sounds great. You�ll have to work really hard at your batting and catching and practice a lot.

AJ: [pondering for a moment]. Well, I won�t have to work that hard. I just want to be an umpire.

* * * * *
AJ, as usual, had a great time at the ballpark last night. His uncle spoiled him rotten, treating him to a jumbo pretzel, a bag of Cracker Jack, a stuffed version of the team�s mascot, and a commemorative baseball. He also got the mascot�s autograph on his baseball card, a pack of which was the giveaway for last night�s game.

It was Boy Scout night at the park last night and every scout for miles around must have been there. The whole row of boys in front of us in the bleachers stood up solemnly and gave the two-fingered Boy Scout salute during the National Anthem, which was sung Andrews Sisters style by three very large women dressed in red, white and blue sequins. AJ took off his hat and held it over his heart very solemnly.

The wind was fierce in the back of the bleachers, but AJ was uncowed. He dutifully kept us informed of the state of the field. �He got a strike! Now there�s two outs!� He lasted until the bottom of the sixth at which point his head began to nod and we bundled him into the car for the drive home.

He woke up this morning talking of baseball. He left for school talking of baseball. And there is sure to be more baseball to come.

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