Girl Wonder

So last night Jack and I wanted to do something cool. He wanted to do something we had never done before and I wanted to do something outside. So, being the ultra hip, cultured, intelligent couple that we are, we decided to throw a baseball. We went to the homestead in Fountain City and got his old gloves and some baseballs and went to the backyard. He was thinking (I think) that I was going to throw like a girl. Huh. Yeah right. (I was a champion on my tee ball team and my brother couldn't hold a candle to the distance in my throw or the strength in my swing.) So Jack and I get out there and, I'm not going to lie, I was a little nervous because I hadn't thrown in so long. But the baseball glove felt like a second skin. On the first throw, Jack was impressed. As he should be. I was fielding grounders, pop flies, line drives, the works. It was great. His admiration for my skill grew. But to be honest, some of my throws were not without a dainty jump in the air for leverage, and some balls I caught were not without a girly scream. I am a girl. I can't escape it, nor do I want to. (The picture to the left should say enough...) But I'm pleased to say that I think we may have found a new pastime, one which will increase the quality of our relationship and one that will probably make people want to hang out with us even more.
After we honed our baseball skills and he was impressed beyond belief, we went inside to hang out with his mom Linda. They introduced me to something I am eternally grateful for: Monk-e-mail. Please treat yourself to this. You will thank me later. Well, Jack. Whatever.