GO, WOMAN!

It was Mother's Day afternoon at my brother-in-law's house, where family dinner was followed by a serious game of softball. Most everybody played. Six-year olds and forty-somethings together.I don't really remember what inning it was when it happened. I hit a ground ball down the second base line, into center field. Base hit! I was doing good! Standing on first, and a little out of breath, I was ready to go. The next batter hit a home run. Not the kind that flies into the woods, or over the pasture fence; no such luck. The hitter and I had to run like crazy if we were going to make it home.

I was running as fast as a bare-footed fat woman in a denim skirt could go! About the time I rounded third, I heard him on my tail, "Run, Mom, run!" Players on both teams were going wild, and his voice grew closer. I thought I was pickin' 'em up and layin' em down. Evidently not. The voice grew stronger, until "Run, Mom" turned into a frantic "GO, WOMAN!" Laughing like a crazy woman, I made it safely home. My son did, too. What a bonding moment! Could have been a coronary moment...but all was good. Mother's Day was good.