I took Malcolm to a Baseball Game yesterday. 
This wasn’t his first game, as I dutifully took him to games when he was an infant. This was, however, his first game as a little person, able to both talk in complete sentences and use the men’s room. (I am definitely not counting our first trip to the Oakland Coliseum as a “trip to the men’s room.”) I considered the game a test run, as the tickets only cost $2 and I wanted to make sure Malcolm would be OK at a game before I shelled out serious money to take him to see a real team, the Giants. We had a pretty good time and lasted until the 7th inning. I think we’ll go to another game this year, as long as he is able to enjoy the things that he did yesterday.
Malcolm loves hot dogs. This week, he has loved them off the grill at dad’s group, out of the microwave at IKEA, and from out of whatever-the-hell-they-use-at-the-ballpark. That’s three straight days of lips and assholes, (it’s almost like he’s at Burning Man!) I would have suggested something else today (like nachos, sweet nachos) but the hot dogs only cost 1 dollar, and there was no way that the dads from my dad’s group and I were going to pay more than a few bucks on food. Perhaps it was this general interest in a cheap date that made me boycott beer for the first time in my life, and I refused to spend $8 on a tea cup full of bud light. A half hour later, and 8 Oakland A’s runs later, I had 10 hot dogs and I returned to the group to find that Malcolm had run off and the kids were generally uninterested in baseball. Malcolm loved his dog and a half, and after I had eaten my two and half dollars’ worth, I wish I had eaten nachos.
Malcolm loves running around with his friends. We were there with my friends from dad’s group, so Malcolm had his full compliment of cohorts to get into trouble with. We couldn’t really see anything since the $2 seats give you a view similar to that from the Hubble Space Telescope, so Malcolm decided the best way to enjoy the game was to run races around the handicap seating area. This lasted until the very large, very mean security guard came and told us that the kids really shouldn’t be running around like that. My initial thought, “Well, you really shouldn’t be wearing a mustache like that,” never made it out of my mouth, and we reluctantly corralled the kids back to our area.
Malcolm loves ice cream. Amy’s mom was in town and had promised to make brownies with Malcolm after his nap. He had been offered cookies at the park, which I said he could have in lieu of brownies, which he politely declined. (Delayed gratification in a 3 year old, I love this kid!) When his friend Priya announced that she wanted cotton candy, Malcolm joined in the chorus saying, “I want cotton candy too! What is cotton candy?” When offered the choice between this strange cotton candy phenomenon, he stuck to the know qualities of brownies. That lasted only until the ice cream guy showed up. More specifically, the guy pedaled ice cream sandwiches, two chocolate cookies with vanilla ice cream in the middle. Malcolm told me that he really wanted one and that he no longer wanted to make brownies with grammy. It was getting warmer and I thought he actually made a good decision, and isn’t that what parenting is all about? So he had a fantastic ice cream sandwich and enjoyed himself greatly.
We’ll probably be checking out the Giants later this summer, as long as the following conditions are met. First, the tickets can cost no more than $4. Total food expenditures cannot exceed $10. He must have at least 5 friends to play with, and everyone needs to sit together. Now that I think about it, maybe we won’t be going to anymore games…
Tags: baseball, dad's group, eating
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