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Tuesday, 14 August 2012

Go Phillies

By Claire Jean

The series of heat waves this year in the northeast takes me back to the 1980s when we were experiencing much of the same, and to one summer day in particular when the combination of both temperature and humidity made it feel above 100 degrees.

On that summer afternoon, my husband, daughter, son and I headed out for one of many enjoyable trips to see the Philadelphia Phillies play baseball.

Ample warning was given beforehand by the local weather channels regarding the expected highs. We were not concerned. If the players could stand the heat, so could we.

Our clothing was acclimated to the predicted forecast. We brought plenty of water to drink plus would make trips to the rest rooms to splash water on our face and arms as needed.

Five seats directly in front of us remained empty for at least the first 30 minutes of the game before a family of five arrived - wife, husband, two children and a grandmother. Before anyone sat down, the husband carefully wiped each chair with a damp cloth causing me to notice how nicely they were dressed.

Everyone seated around us appeared to be enjoying the day as much as we - that was, until I returned with my children from the hot dog stand. Just as we sat down, I noticed that my son, then about nine years old, had several of those plastic packets of mustard in his grip.

Within seconds and one intense squeeze, an explosion of mustard was sent flying into the air landing with a sizable portion on the back of the grandmother’s white hat which was meant to block out the sun, surely not mustard.

No more than a sprinkling landed on the backs of a few others.

mustard packet

I was mortified, apologizing profusely to those affected and attempted to help clean up some of the mess they could see on the seats.

I’m not certain they clearly understood what had happened since it all took place behind their backs. Admittedly, I did not offer to tell them what they did not know or show them what they did not see.

Our ride home was very quiet since I did not know whether to laugh or cry. We were all surprised, especially my son, to see what one squeeze could do.

[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


Hi Claire Jean,

I laughed all the way through your hilarious account of the "mustard Caper" at the Phillies game.

It was so funny,especially the part where you confessed that you didn't tell them they had mustard on their backs.

Great writing and fun reading!

I hope they caught a look at what they had to wash when before they tossed it into the machine! Great story and certainly a good memory for your family members. Funny how we remember little things like that, isn't it. Funny how nine year olds have a great power over clothing, too.

I'd been give six tickets to a RED's game and couldn't find anybody to go with me. Dad, said he'd go and so just the two of us went.

We knew it would get cool in the evening, so we had jackets on. We bought two of just about everything they were selling to eat and drink.

We sat in two seats, put our jackets in two seats and our food stuff in two seats. I said I didn't know what we would have done if somebody else had come along.

We got beer spray spilled on us from above. It was all good.

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