A Whistle.

As we exited the baseball game last night, Jeff found a ball from the game on the sidewalk.  Dylan was so excited!  I promised him I would practice pitching the ball to him today.

I must add, my lovely sister Justine brought over a new bin of toys for the ninos yesterday.  Inside she had bats, balls....and yes, a whistle.  Who would give a child a whistle?  On purpose?  And guess who found it in record time?  Of course my little referee.  Like the child needs any help calling the shots or bossing anyone around!

So I showed the ninos the batter's stance (now remember...I'm no athlete....but I'm trying...).  Legs apart. Tweeeet!!!  Turn to the side.  Tweeeet!!!  Elbows up.  Tweeeet!!!  Fist over hand.  Tweeeet!!! 
"Eva honey, how about you only blow the whistle when you guys hit the ball?" 
She actually sat down at one point and said "Mommy, throw me the ball!"
 "Sitting???"  There's no SITTING in baseball!!!"  
 The ball (and the bat) are about twice the normal size, but they got it!  They actually hit the ball several times!  I was so happy and proud and impressed!  I have awful memories of high school gym class, I could NEVER hit the ball.  And they did it!  And of course Eva is blowing the whistle like crazy.  I'm waiting for the neighbors to file an official complaint.  Thank goodness we are neighborless for the moment on both sides.