and sat in the back booth by the pamphlets and the literature on how to lose

—How was babysitting?

M: Go back to 7-3-2! I want to watch softball!
He wants to watch Conference USA softball.

E: I finished!
Her petite body pooped that?!
J: Guh. Emily, spread your butt cheeks for Uncle Jon.

—At one point, I juggled baseball with Max and a tea party with Emily. I felt like Mrs. Doubtfire.

J: Strike two.
M: No, that was a ball! The strike zone is…
J: Foul.
M: No, that was fair! The foul pole is…
This is like playing Calvinball.

—His winning complex is worsening. He quit in protest when I cut his lead to 28 runs.

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