What impressed my kids?
Was it the artistry?
Was it the 2 million steps we climbed to get to our seats?
Was it the 10 million degree weather or the gorgeous sunset that followed?
How about the cool score board and tiger with glowing eyes?
Was it our seats that were this close to the scoreboard?
Was it the fountains or the excitement of being in the one nice downtown area?
Was it being with friends?
Maybe it was those Little Caesars $5 pizzas selling for $14.50?
Or the amazing fireworks show at the end?
Could it be the rides within the park?
Perhaps it was the drunk lady who lost her balance and baptized me in her beer and then showed all those innocent cub scouts a side of the moon they had never before seen?
NO, NO, NO.
What my children took away from their night at the ball park was the image of the homeless man singing and dancing and asking for money. They didn't feel pity. They didn't feel compassion. They didn't feel even a twinge of responsibility. What they did feel was something akin to giggles at his silly song. And now my 6 year old has been singing the same song.
We had a fantastic night at the park. But someone mentioned that there was baseball being played while we there! I have no idea what they are talking about.