Balls in your face!

We're always told by our Mothers to "play the field" with men before we settle down. To try and test out all the possible superstar players before we sign onto the all-star team. As one who has no athletic skill to speak of, I find it supey challenging to "play the game".

I played softball once in middle school and the team decided I would be super strong way, way far out in the outfield. There I was, sun beating on my pale skin, nervous beads of sweat dripping from my tiny brow. My hand got super hot so I opted to take that leather paw off and place it on the grass where it would surely cool off. Suddenly...BAM!! a ball comes flying way, way far out into the outfield. I could tell by the disappointed looks on my teammates faces, this wasn't supposed to happen. Unprepared and so panic-stricken that pee streamed down my leg like Niagara Falls in a rainy season, I reached my piggy arms up to the sky...BAM!! BALL IN THE FACE! Fail.

The dating pool in your 20s is a lot like getting a ball in your face. I'm out in the outfield of the world, just waiting for a man to come around, after awhile I've taken off my leather paw because surely I don't need it, and then BAM! Balls in my face! Not literal balls...well....No, no, no. No literal balls are on my face out in public. Oh gosh, this metaphor has gone in a direction I could never have imagined. Jeeze.

Ok, what I mean to say is this: Men are like balls and I'm out in the outfield waiting to catch one. I become so distracted and bored when no balls come out in my direction, I take off my hand armor. Then suddenly out of NOWHERE comes a ball and I'm not prepared to catch it. It just hits my face. I'm just known as "Madde Ball Face" for the rest of middle school my 20s.

Basically what I'm saying is I need to learn how to catch a ball or else Ima get hit in the face.