Home Run.

She snatched the Gatorade out of her father’s hand and guzzled half of the contents in one gulp.
“Now what would you like to do?” He crouched down to her height and caressed her hair out of her face.
She took another swig and answered breathlessly. “I’m tired of doing grounders. We should do some hitting, especially if I want to hit any homers!”
He chuckled at her confidence and spunk.

As she hurriedly went to get her dainty bat, her dad went to go get the tee.
“No Dad!”
“I don’t want the tee! I need you to toss me the ball so I can hit it really hard!”
He knew it wasn’t a good idea, but if she wanted to try he would let her. “Okay, but keep your eye on the ball!”
He brought his arm back and lightly aimed for the strike zone.
She swung as hard as she could and made contact.
“Daddy! I hit it!”
He smiled at her then frowned when he heard the unmistakable noise of one of his windows shattering in a million pieces.
“Daddy! Did you see?!”
He took a deep breath, “I did! Come on! Let’s hit another!”

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