It’s the anniversary of our engagement. I asked Dawn to marry me, on this day, in 2003, at Jyothi Indian Restaurant in Adams Morgan. It’s a shame we never go there anymore, but we like Aroma downtown so much better. Dawn swears by their baigan bharta.
It’s also Gwen’s birthday, or her calculated birthday anyway. She was a stray, so her actual DOB remains a mystery. She’s six now.
And I’ve got kickball on Wednesdays. And last time I went, last Wednesday I was in town, the third of May, I forgot my shirt. I was about to call it my jersey, but it’s really just a t-shirt with the WAKA logo on the front and “Play Kickball” on the back. Our team signed up late, like the last team to sign up, so the division had to order extra shirts. So we didn’t get the cool Kelly’s Irish Times logo and whatnot on the back, Irish Times being the division sponsor and the watering hole to which we repair after games. And the shirts are like totally the bottom of the barrel last color available, the last color anybody would ever pick, the last color available. Officially it’s called natural. You’d probably call it tan. We call it nude.
So anyway, this time I remember on Tuesday night to get out the ugly shirt and put it on my dresser, so that I’ll remember it. In the morning I put it on Dawn’s book on the newel post heading downstairs. And Dawn grabs it and puts it by my backpack, by the front door. And of course I don’t see it and forget it. Again.
But luckily it’s a 7:00 p.m. game, so I have time after work to go home and get it and drive back to the Mall. It’s weird being able to park right on the Mall, on Madison Drive, but I guess since the museums all close at 5:30 there aren’t many people needing to park after that.
It’s raining when I get to the field, around 6:40 p.m. I see a couple ASH Kickers arriving and parking themselves under a big tree. I find Virginia and Josh refereeing the early game, so I hang out with Virginia by first base and we share the umbrella. I wonder which is less safe, being under a tree in a thunderstorm or standing out in the open with an umbrella. But there’s no thunder, no lightning. There’s a league requirement that games are called on account of lightning.
The two teams playing both only have three women. League rule is that a team must field at least four men and four women, but apparently since the two teams are equal they’ve decided to play. This presents a moral dilemma for us, however, since we’re playing one of these teams in a few minutes. Since the weather is crappy rain, maybe we’d rather not play tonight. We could force them to forfeit, since they don’t have the required number of women. We discuss amongst ourselves, and various Ash Kickers offer differing opinions. My favorite is that we play them, but only as a scrimmage, taking the win before we even start.
As it turns out, the weather improves and we decide to tough it out and play them for real, despite the gender disparity. And it proves to be a good and close game, and we win by one run. All very satisfying. Afterwards, I drive Tiffany, Stephanie, and Elisa to Irish Times. I’d really rather not join in the drinking and debauchery, and I’m able to get off the hook because of the special anniversary with the wife. And especially because Dawn’s not feeling well, poor dear.