This game was more low-key: a 3-2 loss to Florida in 12 innings. But the girls were cute and great fun. I murmured commentary into Grace's ear through much of the game, which seemed to help her focus and enjoy it more than she might have otherwise, with much of the girls' attention given to the rock doves/pigeons in the upper deck beams above us. (Their obsession with birds continues in full force.) Sophie was practicing being absurdly cute, and proved distractingly so not just to us, but to the people sitting around us in the right field grandstand, too.
The next day was Sunday, although somewhere along the line I'd misplaced a day and had been under the impression that our Saturday ballgame was on Friday, and that this was now Saturday. Enjoying the luxury of sleeping in on a different and luxurious mattress, Leslie woke me to tell me that she was off to Church, and I got up to have a late breakfast and help keep an eye on Grace and Haley. Only when I saw the Sunday Tribune did the answer of why Leslie was going to Church on a Saturday morning become clear to me. She gets triple Catholic Points for Attending Mass While Your Slothful Theologian Brother Is Still In Bed, so maybe that explains the slightly amused smirk I imagined I heard in her voice when she implied it was time for me to get up. (If she didn't smirk, she should have, of course.)