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 all the kids to find something active to do outside, throwing a ball. Lacking imagination, they took that suggestion literally, and a 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 actually has never played baseball, but he asked if we still had a glove he could use. I told him no, probably not, and he went outside. Then he jogged upstairs to think for a minute and take a quick look in the attic.
I literally found the glove in the first box I opened.