We were at Chuck's softball game last night. Have we ever discussed my feelings on softballs...or baseballs for that matter? Don't like 'em. I apparently have a built in magnet that attracts these types of balls. Every single time (I do not exaggerate) I am on the sidelines of one of these types of games, a ball ALWAYS comes flying my way. It is not a pretty sight watching me duck while trying to shield my head or leap off the bleachers in a single bound and sprint for the nearest escape route away from the incoming ball. I live in dread of where and when the hit will happen. It's just a matter of time.
Last night was no different. I pay fervent attention to the game (not out of a love for it), especially the one up at bat. I have this innate need to know where the ball is at all times. I cannot be distracted in this aim. I must pay close attention so I know when to run. Somehow, I got distracted and was not watching the batter when out of nowhere I hear, "HEAD'S UP!!!" I look around in a panic. Then I look up. The sun is right overhead and glaring horribly. To make matters worse, the softball is neon green. This makes it close to impossible to see when looking up into a yellow sun. I finally spot the ball. What do you know, it's headed right for where I'm sitting on the bleachers. Actually, I'm not the only one sitting there. My kids are all spread out on it as well. We pretty much commandeered the entire bleachers for ourselves. I start sprinting to the right assuming my children were following me. They ALWAYS follow me. I can't move 5" to the right while I'm shopping without them also moving 5" to the right. Do you think they followed me this time? NOPE!
I totally deserve the 'Worst Mother of the Year Award'. Here I am running away from my children while a heavy, fast falling object is headed in their general direction. What mother does that?! I turn back to see where the ball has fallen. Instead I see my children still seated where I left them. I gasp. I know they are in the path of the dreaded neon green ball. What do I do? I watch. There's no time left. I see the ball headed directly toward Bennett. I can't even scream to him to take cover. It's all happening in a matter of split seconds. One second he's standing in front of the bleachers looking around. Then next second the ball is going in slow motion right in front of his face. It lands less than an inch from his big toe. I felt as if I was going to faint.
I run over to him and grab him in a huge hug! I asked him why he didn't run when I did. He said he looked up, but couldn't see anything cuz the sun was glaring so badly. So he just stood there. He said he felt the whoosh of the ball as it fell in front of his face and the thud when it landed in front of his feet. It was the biggest miracle I've seen in a long while. There's no other explanation. One inch to the left or right and his head would have been cracked and he would have been passed out on the ground.
He said, "Wow. That was close!"
I told him, "I think your guardian angel was working overtime today! Thank God it wasn't your time to go!" Now we know who also inherited the internal ball-falling magnet.
