Fall Classic 2011: Backyard Edition

You hear parents say that they just want their kids to be happy and do what they want to do. I absolutely subscribe to that notion and wouldn't dream of forcing my choices onto him. But here's the thing ... Jefferson's natural talent at baseball is sort of mindblowing.












He can throw strikes. Honest to goodness, right in the pocket of your glove strikes.












He fears not the grass stains.












When he was about 3 we started trying to play baseball, but the whole enterprise was governed by chaos theory. Too many projectiles made contact with body parts and someone always ended up injured or crying. Once he figured out the key to hitting the ball was watching it, everything changed.









He watches the ball until it makes contact with the bat ...









... every single time.












I really don't care what he decides to be. Auto mechanic, dentist, superstar baseball player ... these all offer personal fulfillment for him and awesome side benefits for mom and dad. I suppose I'd even be happy with chimpanzee impersonator.

Pumpkin Patch 2011: "Just pick one already" Edition

Sometime last October we went to a pumpkin patch. It's pretty fun to sit on farm implements and scowl.












He seems to be pretending that it's a high speed race. Watch out for that hairpin turn around the milo.









You know, turkeys are disgusting. I just asked him if he can believe we eat those things.









People always say he looks like me, but this tongue thing is straight Mom.









2-boyz.









Meme and Jefferson are set to commence with the selection of the perfect pumpkin.









Lay on, MacDuff.












He's acting like he's deciding whether to turn his key at NORAD.












This one?









Nah. This one.












Look at these grown adults following a kid carrying a pumpkin.












Who is happier?