Temptation

This rock hard baseball has been sitting by the TV for at least a few days. Grandkids have come and visited.

Padre has watched his nightly Glenn Beck on Roku and must have seen it.

We've all been in the living room, seen it and no one, to my knowledge, has moved it.

  

Today I had to laugh that we have left it there like a bowl of candy for one of the kids to pick up and nail into the TV.

J's last game was a week ago and I don't know if it got pulled from his bag by a grandkid, set there by him, or what.

As if it were signed by Babe Ruth and

had to occupy a special place in the front room, there it has sat.

Undisturbed.

Today I picked it up, relieved none of the kids drove it into the china on the wall, a lamp or the

window. And of course had to take a picture becaue of the hilarity of

it all.

I also finally picked up J's dusty baseball cap that had been sitting on the nice,

embroidered piano bench since last Saturday as well. 

That item was consciously left on purpose- and I think I even had the Padre's go ahead to leave

the ball cap right where it was

cause it is J's and he is outta town.

Having it right there was akin to having my blooming Peonies out on display-

they both bring a smile to my face. Had he been home, it would have been different. He'd have been told to put it away- and to not put it there in the first place!

hello!

We have a coat/hat rack right by the door.

However, I wasn't home when he put it there and I wondered if he sat down on Mom's good bench in his

dusty baseball pants before he left and then left it there- or what.

Either way, 

It wasn't until Wed., when I got home, that I was able to follow the trail to his room of him dissassembling his baseball uniform to, and through out, his bedroom.

I should say THREW out his bedroom because that's what kind of haste the whole ordeal looked like when I entered his room; sport gear everywhere.

 Believe me, we have had the "post game taking care of uniform/gear conversation many times.

But it's different when you have to bolt to another state, prepare to get outta town without me there to have made the finishing touches on his suitcase.

In the days since,  I have located sock matches and, with his jerseys, they all made it into the dark navy wash today and tucked away ready for another ball day.

Or until one of his cousins sneeks into his room and pulls some bats, balls, and other tempting items out of his gear and comes up swinging.

I bet Padre loves this.