It is a baseball morning.
I HATE baseball mornings.
This morning I woke up Younger Boy for his game. There was what I thought was "plenty of time" to get ready.
I told Younger Boy to get up and put his uniform on. He went upstairs.
About fifteen minutes later I went up to check on him and he was sleeping at the top of the stairs.
Why?
Why does this happen everytime he has to get ready for something?
This makes me crazy.
He did finally get ready for his game. Actually a little bit faster than usual.
Grandma, Grandpa, and C went to his game. He did really well and was excited to have them all there watching.
I HATE baseball mornings.
This morning I woke up Younger Boy for his game. There was what I thought was "plenty of time" to get ready.
I told Younger Boy to get up and put his uniform on. He went upstairs.
About fifteen minutes later I went up to check on him and he was sleeping at the top of the stairs.
Why?
Why does this happen everytime he has to get ready for something?
This makes me crazy.
He did finally get ready for his game. Actually a little bit faster than usual.
Grandma, Grandpa, and C went to his game. He did really well and was excited to have them all there watching.
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