Brad having fun on the 4th at the Royals game

I'm not one for sports-talk. "Oh..." I said, nodding with understanding, "did our pitcher get kicked out of the game for accidentally hitting the guy batting." "No," Brad replied glumly, "it's not a discipline issue...it's more of a speed and accuracy issue." And while others were busy keeping their eye on the ball ("Is that where that saying comes from?" asked Sydney excitedly.), I was busy keeping my eye on the food and beverage vendors. And, as usual, Brad was busy keeping one eye on the game and one eye on me. "Boy, that sun sure is bright," I commented. "Here...take my hat," he said watching Morales with a 3-2 count. "Wow...the temperature really dips when the sun goes down," I later observed so Brad helped me to first find my coat and then wrestle me into it as Escobar made it to first base seconds too late.

Taking note of my Royals shirt, a man next to me scolded my choice of team alliance. "If you're from the Buffalo area, why wouldn't you be a fan of Toronto," he asked. "Because I'm American," I bristled back, waving my little flag patriotically in his face before Brad decided to switch seats with me. "Where's your drink," Brad asked as I choked on a peanut while Dyson snagged a fly in center field. "I can't reach it," I gasped as Brad rectified the situation. Later, my husband expressed some amazement when he realized my snack was gone. "I didn't realize you enjoyed peanuts so much," he commented as Hosmer stepped up to bat. I quietly admitted that I'd dropped the bag so Brad was belly-crawling underneath stadium seating as Hosmer hit his homer. Kansas City got their scoring run and I got my lost bag of peanuts!

"This was so much fun," I exclaimed as we joined the throngs of people streaming out of the stadium. Brad gently nudged me in the right direction, again and again and again, as I wondered where we'd parked the truck. "What was the score," I asked, weaving among the thousands of happy, singing Toronto Blue Jays fans. "6 to 2," my husband answered, boosting me up into the Titan. "Here," he said, handing me my bag of snacks. "have a peanut." I watched my guy as he walked around the front of the truck and swung into the driver's seat. "Did you have fun," I asked. "Yeah, I had a ball," he smiled at me, throwing his empty glove between our seats before starting the truck for the three hour drive home. "I can't wait until the Royals play again," I said as Brad maneuvered his way through bumper-to-bumper traffic. And in the darkness, he sighed.