Cups

C’s baseball coach sat down on the bleacher next me.  The game had just started, first  kid on our team up at bat, so I thought it was a little strange that she wasn’t on the field.

Leaning towards me, she asked, “A little awkward, but…is C wearing a cup?”

“Uh, no,” I replied, “I thought he only needs to if he is catching.”

“At Rookies they have to wear one all the time.  Does he have one here?”

I shook my head.  I had been telling my hubby since before baseball started at the beginning of March that C needed a cup, but he still hadn’t bought one for him.

“I think I have an extra one in my car,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”

A minute later she returned and tossed a cup to me.  Wow, I thought, who has an extra cup lying around in their car?  C was waiting for me at the end of the dugout.

“Hurry,” the dugout mom told me, “he’s up next to bat.”

I looked around for a place to go.  C had never worn a cup before, so I was going to need to help him—not that I had any experience with cups.  Where is my hubby? I sighed to myself.

“Let’s go in that shed right there,” I said, pointing to where they kept the field maintenance equipment.  We hustled over and C unbuttoned his pants.  I helped him get the cup in place, but something just didn’t seem right.  Maybe it’s just too big, I thought looking at it.  But then it dawned on me.

“Oops, buddy, I think it’s upside down!” I laughed.  He turned it around, narrow side down, and it suddenly seemed much better.  “OK, hustle back, you’re up!”

C made it back to the dugout just in time to go up to bat.  As he was up, my hubby finally arrived.  “He almost didn’t get to play because he didn’t have a cup!” I told him.

“Really?  We’ll get one tomorrow,” he promised.

Just then, C hit a nice line drive to right field.

“Yeah!”

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