My husband decided to play on one of the softball teams at his work this spring. I kinda laughed when he said softball, mostly because growing up I thought softball was just for girls. Lines from the movie Sandlot began playing back in my head with shouts of “You play ball like a girl!” when I imagined my man throwing and hitting the grapefruit sized hard as a rock softball. Then I practiced with him and his teammates one afternoon during their lunch break and decided that I better give my husband a break.
Until the following conversation took place:
Husband: “Guess which numbers I chose for my softball t-shirt?!”
Me: “Pray tell,”
Husband: “33. You know why?”
Me: “Why?”
Husband: “Because that’s how old I am!”
Me: “Honey, you’re 34.”
And now I have one more reason to laugh at him when I see him play softball.
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