Foam Fingers

We went to a Mariners game last week. It was on the boys' Summer Bucket List, right up there with camping ("check!"). Thanks to Grandma Rae for some Christmas money earmarked specifically for Mariners tickets, we were able to get to a game.

The boys insisted on foam fingers for a souvenir. Authentic from Safeco, and they do great double duty as machine guns and/or rabbit ears.
Guyan REALLY wanted to catch a foul ball. When it got to about the eighth inning, and still no ball, he started to get ticked off. He apparently didn't see the other 30,000 people there that were all clamoring and praying for their own foul ball. But here, in this picture taken in the third inning or so, he had that gleam in his eye, mitt at the ready, visions of grandeaur playing out in his mind...

What have I done all my life without a foam finger? The things I could use it for..."YOU! Guyan!! Go clean your room!"...

Despite all our foam fingers, fancy signs, and MLB paraphernalia touting the prowess of the Mariners, they lost, keeping with their game plan this year. Consistency is key.

Tired, tuckered out kiddo. With a foam finger.