Our Little League has a tremendous sense of community. Most families feel comfortable letting even the smallest of kids run around. It’s like a giant family, but not in a Warren Jeffs kind of way.
When Lucas was about three, we were at my older son’s game on the farthest field out. That day we had passed out bright orange and blue pom poms to the parents and siblings on our team (the Tigers) so we could cheer obnoxiously. We weren’t really that into the game, we were just trying to embarrass the boys on our team, because we are awesome parents that way. Lucas, being a sibling, had one of the pom poms. During the game Lucas was, as usual, running amok.
Also on that sunny, spring day one of our local universities, UCI, had sent a student over in their mascot costume to pass out flyers for an upcoming baseball game at their campus. Their mascot is an anteater. A giant, fuzzy anteater. A giant, fuzzy anteater with a long nose and a long tail.
I was sitting in the bleachers with my back to the school, facing the rest of the fields, completely ignoring the game and talking to the other moms, when I caught some movement in the distance from the corner of my eye. I turned to look and saw, between two far away fields, Lucas and the anteater. Or more specifically, Lucas jumping up as high as he could reach, BEATING the anteater on the nose with the pom pom.
You know in the movies how something horrific happens in the distance, and no one else sees (even though there are crowds of people around) except the main character, who can only sit helpless because they are clearly too far away to yell or to get there in time to be of assistance? This was one of those times.
The anteater tried to turn away from Lucas, so Lucas began kicking him in the tail..
The anteater then swung back around (I assume to mutter some venomous words at him – could you blame him?) and was again bashed in the nose with the pom pom. Over and over.
Several times the anteater swung around, only to be kicked in the tail or bashed in the nose.
Suddenly the anteater swung away and took off at a full run toward the snack bar area, Lucas running close behind waving the pom pom wildly in the air and screaming.
I decided at this point it might be a good idea to help. When I arrived at the snack bar I found Lucas pounding on a bathroom door with the pom pom. I gave him a few bucks and lured him over to the candy counter, at which point I let the anteater know the coast was clear.
He emerged from the bathroom, anteater head under his arm, bright red and sweating profusely, hair disheveled and wild eyed. He looked around, terrified, to see where Lucifer had gone. I pointed out that he was distracted by a Fun Dip. The half-anteater hurriedly walked off in the other direction.
I didn’t see him again that day, nor have I ever seen another anteater at our field.
Score: Lucas 1 Anteater 0