Baseball Pledge

It’s here.

Welcome back, baseball season!

Sure, I’ll take you boys to watch Dad’s games, but first…

Please raise your right hand and repeat after me
You ate a full meal, stop asking for snacks.
You ate a full meal, stop asking for snacks.

I do solemnly swear to refrain from begging for snacks, especially right after I ate one.

Bleachers are for sitting. Not climbing. Not racing, not drumming. On or off, I will choose one.

If I must pee against a tree, I will do so discreetly and without spraying bystanders.

I’ll do my best to let Mommy watch the game.

I will not heckle my father mid-throw.

I will not heckle my father while he’s at bat.

I will not heckle in general.

All small toys I bring to the ball diamond are my sole responsibility.

I will refrain from using the following words: butt, butt crack, penis. I recognize that additional words may be included at the whim of either parent.

I vow not to give my brothers wedgies.

I will do my best to let Mommy watch parts of the game.

Again, I vow not to harass my mother for additional snacks.

Any and all clothing I choose to remove is as mentioned above, my sole responsibility.

I will let Mommy catch a few glimpses of the game.

This is my promise.

Play Ball!

Swing batter, batter!
Batter up!

 

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Author: Jan Moyer

Embracing my inner child since 2005.

2 thoughts on “Baseball Pledge”

  1. It’s a sad commentary on me that I’m primarily amazed that you actually want to watch your husband’s baseball game. I rarely want to go watch any game, performance, or ceremony. The people, the noise, the disruption of routine, the reality of watching a toddler there. Leaving the house is hard, yo.

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