“Go Mario!”

He soaks up the fans’ adoration and takes a hard swing at the ball. A bouncey grounder to second. He holds his loose helmet on top of his tiny head and runs to first. He looks over at me and gives a thumbs up.

Proud pumpkin-seed boy.

When he heads out to the field, he catches me reading an email in my phone.

“Mom! Put your phone down and watch me!”

Nah, he doesn’t crave attention – not at all. I put my phone down and he sports a mischievous grin. I yell “good job” to him when he runs after a grounder even though he has the closed part of his glove on the ground instead of the open (we definitely need some grounder work).

He lines up after the game with his teammates and gives the other team high fives. Hopefully he keeps up that sportsmanship up through the years because that competitive spirit in him always pokes through.

“Did my team win, mom?”

“I think you tied. You both played well.”

“No, mom. I think we won because I got around the bases and I caught the ball. Yeah, we won.”

Ok then. He clearly does not need any confidence booster from me. But he does need me to put down my phone.