Tonight, we were at the T-Bones game out by the Kansas Speedway. Since they're our only real baseball team in the metro (the Royals, who?), parking was nonexistent, but after a long hike, we made it. Daddy's place of employment had a family night out at the game and we did our best to participate. Bailey made her traditional faces at Tai, went cow-spotting (their mascot is a bull), trampled over other children at the stadium playground, and assaulted the bull in the form of a relentless hug.
As we were leaving, Daddy referred to Bailey as Trouble Junior (he must be Trouble Sr.?) and Bailey repeated the word, "trouble," just as a cop was drawing near, her hand slightly out. I asked if she was calling the cop "trouble", with the cop only a couple feet away. It seemed appropriate.
On our way to find the car during another exhaustingly long hike, Bailey kept pointing out the moon and space and everything else her little wandering eyes could see. She's so entertaining.
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