So Variety had tickets for a Phillies game last night, and had some extra so I could go. We took a school bus from the camp, which was loud and not very comfortable. I have a lot more thoughts here that will keep for a few. We had a great time at the game. Nic was actually following along with who was at bat, what they were doing and was really engaged—a long way from our first ball game last year.
This is even more impressive when taken with the circumstances. Last night was cold and wet, and we were sitting up in the 400 level (equivalent I think of the 700 level in the old Vet). Not the most comfortable of conditions, but the boys had a blast anyway.
G got a little wound around the axle about when the bell would ring. I explained it wouldn't 'ring' unless there was a Phillies home run. Then he became obsessed about the bell ringing--afraid obsessed, that is. It didn't ring, but the Phils won anyway.
Nic's really big moment was when we were taking the elevator back down at the end of the game (he had gone off for some elevator adventures a couple of times throughout). We had an elevator operator—an older man who was actually getting paid to run the elevator—who told Nic not to touch the buttons. Was not particularly kind about it, either.
A year ago, even six months ago, Nic would have had a fit. This time, he *got* this other person and the need to control the elevator buttons. He simply stood there and pointed out what each button did, to which the man testily replied “I know what they do, don’t touch the buttons, young man.”
And the guy couldn’t get us off the elevator fast enough. Nic was amazingly philosophical about it. I’d be curious to know what he thought about this guy, whether he saw himself, and why he was okay about letting his control on this go. Such a huge step, and really such an innocuous situation when you think about it. But since this is Nic, and this involves elevators and controlling them, it’s a pretty big deal.
He really made me proud. Thinking that he’s really grown up a lot this year.
On the ride back to camp, they both sat with me on the bus, Nic curled up next to me clutching one of my hand in both of his, G on my lap clutching my other hand with both of his. Maybe for me the best part of the night, because I know I don’t have many—or perhaps any—of those moments left.