Almost

If I were a baseball player, I would be in the dugout today.

The weekend started with Abby and me driving around "the park behind the hospital at the lake" trying to find a classmate's birthday party. When it comes to directions I have this tendency to assume I can find just about anything and in this case, I was wrong. I did feel a little better on Monday morning when the classmate's mom told me they'd moved the party at the last minute because of the threat of bad weather. "Remember when you were driving around and around," Abby kept reminding me. "Yes, but I least I know now I was in the right place." Strike one.

Saturday afternoon Jake had his final soccer game of the season. We piled into the minivan ... yes, a minivan on the way to soccer ... and after kicking the ball around with a few teammates, we realized we were at the wrong field. Strike two.

And then Monday afternoon, as soon as I picked Sam and Jake up from school we headed north to a 3:30 appointment for Jake. A 3:30 appointment that is scheduled for tomorrow. Strike three.

Oh well. Today is another day. Batter up.