We’re officially back in the swing of Little League season and I’m facing my annual spring dilemma: when the heck is everyone supposed to eat?
My son has practice at 5:45 p.m. My husband doesn’t get home until after 6 p.m. I’m usually writing something until then (my mind does not believe it’s time to write until it’s close to deadline, and I can’t seem to get it to understand that deadlines are a lot more flexible these days). Practice doesn’t finish until 7 p.m., technically, but coach and the boys seem to want to squeeze every single second of light out of the day.
I can’t feed him right before practice. Vomit really doesn’t impress someone who is trying to figure out what position you should play. After practice gives us the ever-valuable family mealtime, but it’s late — and who is going to cook it?
I’m going to either have to do the Dream Dinners thing again (a bit pricey and salty) or cook meals for the week ahead of time on weekends. Because lately, practices are also competing with night meetings and citizens’ police academy for me — and the family, no matter how Italian, can only eat pasta so many days a week!
And here’s the “I didn’t-know-that” of the day: practice today was behind the Millbury Credit Union on Rte. 122, which has a full baseball field. Who knew?