Life | Self | Mood
I found my old baseball glove in the attic a few days ago. It was stuffed into a blue plastic bin with a kind of silver car part.
A young boy down the street came back to our house after school, as he usually does, and I encouraged him to find something active that all the kids could go outside and throw a ball. Lacking imagination, they took the suggestion literally, and the friend was able to run home and returned a minute or two later with his shiny new baseball glove and two balls. He recently joined a baseball team for the first time and is an expert at throwing and catching.
My 10-year-old child has never actually played baseball, but he asked if we still had gloves he could use. I told him no, probably not, and he went outside. Then, after thinking for a minute, he jogged upstairs to take a quick look in the attic.
I literally found the glove in the very first box I opened.