I’m at Jacob’s baseball practice, his third in four days*, where the coach is hollering. “Ball up the middle, you have to cover second!” “Be in the ready position!” “Pay attention!”
To get here felt like moving mountains. “Do you have your jacket?!” “C’mon, you’re going to be late!” “Tie your shoes, let’s go!”
Before that, it was school. A big test in social studies. Who knows what new stuff came his way, while trying to make up work for two sick days last week.
Before that, it was getting ready for school. “Finish your breakfast, you’re going to be late.” “You gotta brush your teeth!” Dragging his butt out of bed.
Before that it was a night interrupted by his lingering cough, enough to ask Mom for help.
Before all that… was a day pretty much exactly like today. And the day before that, and the day before that.
Earlier today, I heard someone ask Jacob: “I’m just asking you a question, why are you getting all mad at me?”
Sometimes, I’m glad I’m not 8 years old.
*There was also a practice on day two, which he missed due to religious education classes. There’s also practice tomorrow.