I heart my YL crew.
My baseball boys have this secret code of some sorts, and so every time I go over there, there's a huge pile of boy shoes greeting me at the door. And about three pair of girl shoes. Such a simple little sight but it warms my soul.
We've gone from about six interested boys to tonight's crew of seventeen, with a couple of the regulars gone for different reasons.
They are the best group of kids around, even when D is making pterodactyl sounds that make my skin crawl and B is just driving me batty.
We got the chance to go a little deeper tonight, and it was a good thing. Laying on the recliner with my feet propped up while CJ was talking and five kids were smooshed on a three-seater couch was more than a little comfortable and comforting. As we finished up and the kids scattered around the house, some in the kitchen, some outside playing pool in the coolest.garage.ever, and some standing in the hallway throwing sweet tarts into each others' mouths, I couldn't help but be in love with all of them.
And when I picked my shoes out of the dwindling pile to go home, I couldn't help but smile.
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