Spring baseball starts tomorrow. Eve plays Monday, Angus plays Tuesday, they both play Wednesday. (Crap, I shouldn't be blogging, I should be making freezer meals. Oh well.) Angus is also glued to televised baseball every chance he gets. ("What happened? Someone hit a two-run homer? Dad, (insert name) made a great catch!") I was watching with him for a few minutes while I ate my yogurt. The pitcher threw the ball, then turned towards the camera and... did some stuff.
Me: "Oh, nice."
Angus: "I know, good strike huh?"
Me: "Actually I was referring to the fact that he spat while the camera was on him. Directly after grabbing his crotch. Classy."
Angus (indignantly): "Hey, he's got a jock on, remember."
Me: "Fair enough. And the spitting?"
Angus: "Umm... that's to keep his mouth warm. For yelling at the umpire."
And I thought French immersion was bad for having us speak two different languages.