NEW CASTLE —
A few Saturdays ago, my daughter and grandson spent the day with us.
What usually happens on those days is, they hop into my wife's car and take off for adventures, leaving me at home alone.
On this beautiful Saturday, my car was in the shop for repairs. Since I have to have a car to take weekend photos for The News, they could not go anywhere without me.
I was a big hit at the Women's Day Out Expo. I got to pick out Kayleen Cubbal's homemade cupcakes, but I passed on the Holly Horton wigs.
After a lunch at Mugsies, I suggested we take my grandson Austin to the new playground area in New Wilmington park.
He had a great time. He even met a new girlfriend name Mariah. I could have sworn they said her name was Delilah.
Austin must like domineering-type women. This girl kept calling for him to come to where she was playing, and he obeyed every time.
Later that evening, I was privileged to do a Grandpa thing.
Austin brought out a ball and bat. The bat was plastic and I think the ball was made out of cotton, but it served its purpose.
I learned right away that I was the designated pitcher and he was the batter.
That's when I made the big discovery. He's left-handed!
How could this be? Everyone in my family is right handed.
I had never pitched to a left-handed batter before. I had to adjust.
The best part was, I didn't have to get out of my chair. After he hit the ball, he also chased it and brought it back to me.
Some of his hits I announced as home runs, even though on a ball field they probably wouldn't get past the pitcher’s mound.
I noticed that Austin has some traits he might have gotten from his grandmother.
Every time he missed hitting the ball, he would accuse me of throwing it wrong.
His grandmother blamed me the other night for the chicken not being done right, just because I walked though the kitchen.
I did make one bad pitch. I threw it a little too close inside. When he swung, it hit him in the head.
He didn't get hurt, but he ran inside and announced he was mad at Grandpa.
That lasted about a minute and he was back outside hitting the ball again.
I learned something that Saturday playing with my grandson. Grandpas never get to bat, but Grandpas don't care.
Gary Church
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About Gary Church: Gary is a columnist and contributing writer for The News. He’ll share his thoughts on this blog each Tuesday and Friday.
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