So, every Thursday evening we have a routine. I get home from work, wrangle both the boys into the vehicle, pick my Mom up and we head to the softball field to watch Cory play softball. Cory's team is pretty good. Well, pretty good for a team that is filled with old, drunken men. (Side note: It took me 10 years to learn that what Cory has been calling "batting practice" actually means drinking in someone's garage before the game. I shit you not, I learned this week that Cory's batting practice requires zero bats. I'm either naive or very, very stupid when it comes to sports. And since I own more inhalers than I do tennis shoes- I'll go with the latter of the two.)
Any who, Ryder really gets into the games and likes to cheer. Last week, he was in full cheering stance on top of the bleachers when one of our friends, who is conveniently one of Ryder's favorite people, came up to bat. He swung the bat and hit a pop fly. As the ball sours high in the sky Ryder throws both hands in the air above his head and angrily yells, "That was terrible!"
As it turns out, Ryder was both accurate and an ass (Sorry Jared). #coachRyder
So, speaking of being an ass, Ryder was playing with his tape measure this weekend when we were camping. Ry is obsessed with measuring things. So here he was measuring the air (because why not?) when all of a sudden the ruler part retracted and pinched his finger. My sister, Jess, asked Ryder if he wanted her to kiss it to make it feel better. He returned her polite gesture with a displeased, "No." He then proceeded to pull out his tape measure, put it up to her waist and measure her. With a growl he announced, "Yup, same size. Lots," and walked away. For real, this kid can't even count past 10, but can insult with math like the best of them. #furturemathteacher?
Ryder is starting to remind me more and more of Stewie from Family Guy. Please pray for me.
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