Baseball begins

When my son was three years old, he said to me, "Mom, I really like playing catch with you, even though you aren't that good at it."

He was right. At age three, he surpassed my baseball skills.

Now he's nine years old, and this week baseball season began in our neighborhood. Sure, I'm excited about the games and watching the kids improve their skills week after week, but I'm also excited about walking to the fields and noticing what plants along the path peak week after week.

He rode his scooter ahead of me on our route to the first game. When I finally caught up with him, he asked what took me so long.

"I stopped to see the forsythias," I said.

"Mom, that's what you said last year."

He was right, and I'll probably say it again next year, too.