On Mother’s Day we went to a baseball game and she talked to the fan next to us about where crawdads live and about Willie Mays and about the importance of not getting an error.
I ate boiled peanuts and put the shells in my cap while she told him the same stories I have heard over and over again.
I thought she was annoying him, but he seemed to genuinely be interested in her stories luckily.
I left her with the fan and went outside to go to the bathroom and the sun was setting over the marsh and I wanted to take a picture, but knew I couldn’t do it justice.
It was just another perfect day at the ballpark.