Last Wednesday it was about 7:10 PM and I was laying on the couch feeling pretty pleased with myself. After all, I'd gotten an email the prior week, from my oldest two boys' baseball coach indicating that our game for the night was rescheduled. A free night. *Sigh* They're pretty hard to come by. So, I'd sent the boys over to prayer meeting with their Pastor/Dad while Lucy and I spent some quiet alone time at home.
And then I got a text from a number I didn't recognize.
"Are you on your way to the game?" They asked. Feeling pretty smart, I replied back something like "Nope, game rescheduled."
To which the number replied "That's next weeks game."
The game was scheduled to start in 5 minutes in a town about 10 miles away. I jumped off the couch, ran the 27 steps to interrupt church in order to grab my 3 boys (2 of which are on the team. The team functions with only one extra player, they sorta need them)
The boys (and my husband were super confused.) As they get in the house I'm frantically telling them to get their baseball stuff on because MOM WAS WRONG AND THE GAME IS STARTING NOW!
From there, chaos ensued.
Mad dashing from upstairs to downstairs trying to find uniforms and cups and cleats and belts and socks and gloves and hats. Tears were involved. We couldn't find one boys jersey, he ended up wearing a blue football t-shirt (close enough) and no belt.
As we drove down the highway (a leeetle faster than the speed limit) I apologized to the boys and tried to give them a little pep talk that it was going to be fine, no biggie that they were arriving a full inning late. They weren't exactly convinced, but at least we weren't yelling at each other anymore and we were almost there.
As we pulled into town, I headed down the road that leads to the Little League diamond. And that's where I passed the cop. The cop I only noticed as our eyes met as we passed each other on the road. And I knew.
He drove a few blocks passed me, and then turned into a driveway. "He's gonna pull me over," I said to the boys.
Silence. And flashing lights.
I pull over, and by the time the nice officer gets to my window I have my insurance and license ready for him. I also have one boy who's in tears, and the other one giggling in the back. If you know them in real life, you know which one is which. ;)
I quickly confessed that I knew I was going too fast and apologized. I'm pretty sure I blabbed about forgetting their game and now we were late blah blah blah. A quick peak inside my messy mini van with four kids must have been enough to garner some sympathy.
"I'm not giving you a ticket M'am, please slow down next time. I do need to go back to my car and log your information."
As he heads back to his car, I notice/remember that I'm am almost out of gas..unless fumes count. I had meant to get it the day before and then decided to procrastinate til tomorrow, because I had no where to be "tomorrow." Pffff. It's at this point that I wonder aloud if I should ask the officer to follow me to the diamond. My oldest wasn't sure what would be worse, running out of gas or having a police escort.
I decided to gamble and try to make it. Which we did.
"We're like an episode of The Middle" one of the boys said.
He's right. We are.
As I settled in at the game, I decided to text Ben and let him know what all the chaos was about and to tell him to come (with a gas can) as soon as he could because I was seriously doubtful my trusty van could make it any further. I couldn't get a hold of him. Finally he called from our home phone and said he had lost his cell, but he would be coming with gas shortly.
What I didn't know til after I'd hung up my phone was that the game was almost over.
In the end, we won the game by one run. And my oldest pitched the last inning and struck all three batters out. And, with friends following in their vehicles, we made it to the gas station and then home. And Ben eventually figured out we must have made it home okay. ;) By the end of the night, we had found his cell phone and all was right with the world. Out little world anyways.
We learned a few lessons in the crazy. Mainly, I should pay more attention to details in emails from coaches. And not put off getting gas. Or speed. All of which I'm likely to repeat in the future...but the best part about it was to be able to laugh at it afterwards. Sometimes the crazy is a good way to bond.
this picture is not from the crazy day. just a different day when I was annoying them with selfies.