Play Ball!

It is that time of year, Baseball Season has started. It is the time of year when my husband gets sad about our daughter. She still chooses to compete in Dance and not Softball/Baseball. Poor guy, he had such high hopes, she played boys baseball for a few years until dance took over. She is good with no practice. I think he imagines a UW scholarship down the road and the College world series. But no it is not to be at this point. He has to settle for our 8 soon to be 9 year old son playing AA coach pitch for another year.
Here is Henry the first practice "Baseball? I didn't sign up for Baseball, who said I wanted to do that, I want to play Basketball"
Me "Henry you play every year, Daddy and I really like watching you."
Henry " I want to play basketball"
Me "that season just ended, you will play again when it starts back up, now you play baseball"
Henry "I am not playing baseball"
Me "yes you are"
Henry "no I am not, you can wear my cup and play"
Me "very funny young man" (of course I am thinking mommy's balls are too big for that cup), "but we are going to practice at 4:30"
We got to practice and he had a great time with his new team. The deciding factor seem to be that his team is the "Mariners" this year. Scott is only hoping that he pays attention this year, doesn't pick grass in outfield or get beaned at first base cause he is chatting up the runner on base.
So I went shopping at Sport Authority to get him new gray baseball pants since last years are white and look like knickers and he could be waiting for a flood. Also, he needs a new cup since the puppy chewed up the one from last year. They are required to wear them which I never understood because really what's to protect at this age. But then I saw a kid take a ball off the cup and that sucker ricochet pretty hard. So there I am at Sports Authority looking like a lurker or perv. I was holding up pants and seeing if there were any kids in the store about his size to see if I was getting the right size. Then I found the hidden rack of cupville. Holy Crap, this is what Dad's are for damnit. There is an entire wall of these things. Come on I don't even know which way is up on the thing. Plus they are different colors and have gel sides in some of them, boxers, briefs, wth is a slider short. This should have been a Dad job and I immediately decided that their Dad would be the one to go buy Hayley her first box of tampons when needed.
So I fingered the many packages and was lurking about when a handsome man about my age walked by. I startled him by accosting him. I nudged him towards what I am now calling the wall of doom.
I said "Please help me out here since you have the parts and I don't, but which size would I buy for my 8 year old"
Him "Well my 8 year old is big so I would get this one" (bright blue) flustered he says "I mean he is a big kid."
I say before I can help myself "Isn't that what all the Dad's say?" "Okay, mine is a tall skinny thing of about 55 pounds and I don't want to question his or my spouses manhood by buying the one for 5-6 year olds called PeeWee cup; so do you think I could get away with the neon green one for 8-9 year olds? Can you pad them like a training bra to make it more comfortable? Do you go by like crotch/hip size or the volume of the junk you put in the cup?"
At this point he was slowly edging away from me...looking for a sales person to save him from the crazy lady.
"Thanks for your help I think I will go with the green one, my son likes green"
He quickly switched aisles. I can't wait to see if he is a dad on our team or if we play his team.