Hey batter look at me, I’m a monkey in a tree.
Walk her, walk her, just like Betty Crocker … go Betty, go Betty, go!
If you've never been to a girls’ softball game, you don’t know what you’re missing. Oh my goodness. There is never a quiet moment. The cheering never stops.
I thought of my middle daughter, the pitcher. How does she concentrate with that racket going on? Isn't it distracting? She gets to hear ...
Watch the pitcher, watch-watch the pitcher. Is she high, is she low – is she fast, is she slow? Watch the
Rolling, rolling, the pitcher’s going bowling!
I got my answer the other night after Taylor’s game. She ran over to me as soon as it was over. “Hey Mom, did you see my bunt?”
“Of course I saw your bunt! I was sitting right behind home plate. I cheered before the first pitch, and then I screamed super-loud as you ran to first base. I embarrassed Emily for heaven’s sake. You didn’t even hear me?”
She tilted her head. “Nope - didn’t hear you.”
Now I was baffled.
“Well, what about when you’re pitching? I’m always cheering for you when you’re pitching.”
“Nah. I just block it out.”
As I sit here in my office, I am keenly aware that I’ll soon need to learn how to block out some other noises around here. Today is the last day of school – and tomorrow my home will become a place of commotion and chaos. I’m okay with that, until I need to write.
I can’t concentrate with girls giggling or sisters screaming or a piano pounding or music blaring or doors slamming. And then there’s the ever-popular interruptions, like “How soon ‘til we eat?” and “Tell her to stay out of my room!”
Of course then I won’t be able to concentrate - it'll be way too quiet.