Creative Writing: A Day At The Park

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I almost
regretted having to bring my son, what with the hassle of getting the
diaper bag packed , the traffic, and fighting the crowds while pushing a
stroller. It was hectic, but I survived.
Finally we were situated and ready for the game. The singing of
the national anthem was finished and we were waiting for the first pitch.
All of a sudden it hit me, for some reason I couldn't have been prouder.
There I was, holding my son and watching my childhood heroes, sharing his
first major league baseball game. Now I don't know if what I felt was
brought on by television fantasy, or just sheer pride and joy, but I do
know that I felt like a million bucks.
After about ten minutes my son started to get restless, and my
wife had to walk him around to keep him quiet. Every once in a while when
she would bring him back to our seats, he'd sit on my lap and somewhat
watch the game, saying "ba" which was his word for ball. That alone would
make me smile, even if the Rangers ...

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