The night after we got back from NC, we took Ezra out to his first ballgame at the Bricktown Triple A ballpark. Our friend Craig had some extra tickets, and we jumped at the opportunity to let Ezra experience this important American rite-of-passage. We also thought it might help shake off the Missin’ MoMar Blues. (Also, we were in the market for greasy ballpark food and an excuse not to cook.)
The evening was perfect and highly documented… by the end of the night I had taken more pictures than the entire week of camp combined. Here are a few:
Ezra loved watching the game and caught right on to the thing by shouting “Throw duh bawl!” at the pitcher every other second or so. What a heckler. We shamelessly tried to get Ezra on the mega-tron screen by lifting him above our heads and shaking him around when we noticed that they were filming people in the stands who were dancing. No such luck.
After the game (which our home team was losing MISERABLY when we left) we walked around downtown for a while and stopped to get Ezra a balloon sculpture. The young guy making the balloons asked us what we wanted and I said, “Whatever is easy!” at the exact same time that Chris said matter-of-factly, “A BOAT.”
“A boat?” The kid asked trembling. Sweat began to form on his young brow.
“A boat?”, I turned and asked Chris. “Why a boat?”
“I dunno.” Chris said. “Ezra likes boats, right?”
“I guess so… but Ezra also likes things like SNAKES and SWORDS, honey.”
We stood there for the next few minutes while the poor balloon man attempted to make a boat, using nothing short of 80 balloons to accomplish this feat. The line behind us grew longer. The boy’s mutterings under his breath became more frequent. His hands became shakier and shakier. Finally, we had a balloon sailboat. That could also double as a hat. Hopefully the two dollars that we gave the balloon guy will cover the cost of materials he used to make our ginormous boat hat balloon contraption. It is doubtful, however. Very doubtful.