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Yesterday I did something that I've never done before--I bought baseball cleats.

The Cheese starts T-ball next week.  We signed him up through our city's parks department.  One hundred bucks gets you a spot on a team, a team T-shirt, and a trophy at the end of the season.  I made sure to turn in his paperwork early.  Last year I found out the hard way that you have to think ahead about these things.  I tried to sign him up a month after registration opened and found out that there was already a waiting list a mile long.  Just like signing up for preschool or swimming lessons, this was something that required being ahead of the game--literally.

I had asked his coach if he needed baseball cleats.  He said that they weren't really necessary at this age, but we could if we wanted to.  I had to go to the sporting goods store to buy the rest of his uniform, so I decided to go ahead and check into them.  Besides, I didn't want my son to be the only kid on the team without cleats.  I just imagined him sitting in therapy one day saying something along the lines of, "And my parents were too cheap to buy me any cleats!"

So I splurged and bought them.  I bought them big, in hopes that they would last more than one season.  Considering that the Cheese only has eight practices and eight games, they will just start to get worn in by the time that the season is over. 

Standing there looking at all of the different shoes for all of the different sports, I couldn't help but be in awe.  What a racket this whole thing is!  I suddenly wished that I owned stock in Adidas.  There were cleats for football, soccer, baseball--and they all looked the same.  Now, I'm sure that there are subtle differences between them, but to a mother who is new at this I couldn't see them. 

It only got worse as I headed to look for socks.  At least with the socks I saw a little more of a difference, but let's face it, they're all just socks. 

Then it was time to find pants and a belt.  Grey for the pants, dark blue for the belt.  I bought the smallest sizes I could, but they still look like they will swallow my little T-ball player whole.  Turns out they don't make extra-extra small when it comes to sporting attire.

The coach is getting the kids' names put on the back of their T-shirts and hats.  It'll cost each parent additional money, but at this point what's another twenty bucks.  If it helps the kids feel more like a team, it's all worth it.  Athletics--what a parental investment of both our time and our money.

I came in the door and smiled at the Cheese.  I told him that I had bought part of his T-ball uniform and he quickly jumped up to look inside the sack.  The first thing he grabbed were his thirty dollar cleats. 

"These are baseball cleats, Buddy.  What do you think?"

"AWE-SOME!"

Let's just hope that he's as excited to play the game as he is about the shoes.