After our usual Wednesday night routine of Tickle Monster after the kids got home from church (it's really me hiding someplace random in the house until they find me then chasing them down one by one and tickling them until someone pees or pukes, whichever comes first) I was getting Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum dressed for bed.
Out of the ever loving blue, with "World's Dumbest Police Chases" or something on in the background Trot looks at me and with the most sincere voice a 3 year old shoveling jelly beans into his mouth can muster asks "Is dere a baseball game on tonight?"
When I informed the future delinquent that baseball started in about 3 weeks Rakes erupted from his perch on the couch with a shout of "BIG PAPI!!!" that would have destroyed any hearing aid within 50 yards of our house and Trot chimed in with "Get Out, Ball!" (our favorite scream anytime someone hits one that has a snowballs chance in hell of leaving the yard).
I'm not ashamed to admit it; my heart melted just a little bit.
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