My Nephew's baseball team lost on Friday, cutting the tournament short for the Salt Lake Saints. This left some of the 12 year old boys in tears prompting my nine year old nephew, Tristan, to pipe up and say, "There's no crying in baseball...unless you're really, really hurt!"We almost missed the game because my father in law's GPS system had us on a recalculated whirlwind that took us in loops and through hoops. Why do we put so much faith in these electronics? Is it the sensual voice? It seems as though we are willing to go against our instincts and better judgment to follow commands that can lead us to industrial dead ends instead of to freeway entrances or to a ball field. Well, lead on voice of wonder, I am no good with a compass...which way is north again? I suppose in a round about way, we did reach our destination.
The rest of the trip involved swimming and some slot playing. Darn you Sally Shrimp. Your tempting shrimp shack bonus left me with only lint in my pockets at the end of the day!! We had a great ride, though.
All together it was a really nice getaway. Better luck next time, Saints. Farewell Sally Shrimp!
