The gray sky was low, and I almost felt that if I could stretch far enough I could touch the clouds. Though, this time, I didn’t want to. They were dark and ominous, not at all like the cotton candy skies I’d lay under and dream of reaching. But I didn’t mind. My little fingers cupped a miniature blue helmet and I was quickly scooping ice cream from it to my sticky lips. The scents of hot dogs filled the air and a giggle would escape every time the guy would climb the stairs yelling out “Peanuts, Water, Beer!!” Every single time, I’d jump, and after the first few, it became a game. A game between the peanut guy and I. And then it happened, it rained. After waiting as long as my dad could stand it, they called the game and we headed home, my hands still grasping my ice cream helmet, my heart still happy.
Yesterday, we made those memories again with my own children, my eldest about the age I was that rainy day.
Now that I have my own little ones to make memories for, I often wonder what is left out of my childhood ones. I remember rain, yes, but did I cry about it? Probably, but I don’t remember. Was I bored for half of the time I was there? Most likely, but that’s not something that stuck with me… what stood out were the things that made me smile, it was the feeling of being at a special new place with my daddy, it was ice cream in a frikin’ helmet.
Yesterday was HOT, and between the whining from exhaustion and the cries for more water, we had fun. My kids cupped their very own ice cream filled helmets, cheered on our home team from our seats 2 rows up from the dugouts and seriously, I almost cried during the 7th inning stretch while everyone belted out “Take Me Out To the Ballgame” in unison and my little girl tried singing along and just about got every other word.
The peanut guy at this game still made me giggle, but mostly it was in response to Brayden asking, “What’s that noise?” when said peanut guy would spread the word beer into about 4 syllables and 30 seconds.
So, today as Brayden walks around saying “I go baseball game. I get a ball,” I know his memory bank is filled with the good. As Aliyah clutches the game ball that Detroit Tigers player Brandon Inge tossed to them, I know I did my job. I know I gave my kids the opportunity to write a beautiful story they’ll remember in their very own way.
As my dad bought the kids their very first ball game ice cream, I asked him about the day we went. Did he remember much about it? No, and I’m sure my story is a bit skewed from the original version, but I don’t mind. It’s good. And I know my kids’ will be good too.
Chillin’ with Papa.
Also, I don’t think I’ll ever hear “Take Me Out To the Ballgame” in the same way again. There’s something to be said for the beautiful stories that parents write upon their memories when we experience something with our kids on their very first time.
Jessica says
I LOVED the day we took Ethan to his first game. And yup, I cried. Growing up, we dream of having families of our own and doing all these things with them..a never-ending bucket list. Looks like you hit that one out-of-the-park (hee hee). I love how his hair curls around his hat!
Christa says
oh i havent gone to a ball game in way too long
Gerri says
Sounds like a fun day. 😉
Izzy, Emmy 'N Alexander says
Looks like you all had a really fun and memorable trip! BTW, your kiddos are growing up way too fast! 🙂 Yet, they are as beautiful as ever. 🙂
Adrienne says
It is such a blessing to see all these things through their eyes for the first time! Since my own childhood has so few and such strange memories, it was like being ‘regifted’ a better childhood! I have the greatest photos from our first trip to the ball park with my kids (who were being raised in France, let me just add) … the big eyes and the concentration as they were trying to figure out what in the world was going on! …my dad was with us for that moment too!