"Why do I have to wear something nice? I don't want to wear something nice. It's just a banquet!" Right. He just learned what a banquet was 5 minutes beforehand, but whatever, I had a baby to diaper and my own shoes to grab. Out the door we go, black Spider-Man socks pulled up his shins and all. "He'll learn one day," I thought to myself.
Upon arriving where this banquet was taking place, we weren't sure where to go. Thankfully, we were able to follow the sounds of many screaming children that were running wildly throughout the 4-H grounds. I instantly felt ridiculous for making the clothing an issue. This is what we saw:
100+ regularly dressed people crammed into a tiny shelter house all waiting for trophies and wieners. We found a seat on the very last picnic table all the way in the back and waited for Travis to grab the boys a hot dog.
Then we waited for every girl of all the co-ed teams to get called first. Our boys were impatient, so we let them run around. And I sure am glad Triston did know what was up with the appropriate apparel because there was a lot of mustard and fruit punch smeared on shirts and little faces, a lot of running, a lot of falling, and a lot of crying by two tired little boys who didn't want to wait for something they weren't receiving.
Finally it was Triston's team's turn....
It turned out to be a really good time. I earned another notch on my experience belt with this kind of setting and Travis got to engage in some Daddy Duty as he stepped in for our coach, as the announcer, when he couldn't make it. Triston got his medal for a well-played first season of T-Ball, and maybe more importantly, it seems that the day came when I'm the one who learned the lesson I should have been teaching: Don't fuss over petty stuff. Let them be and they'll do just fine.
....even if they are wearing black socks pulled all the way up their shins.