Baseball + my family = pain for me

This morning, my dad and I took my youngest brother, Ryan, to the batting cages for a few hours to practice. When that got old, we walked onto a vacant baseball field and my dad started hitting balls to Ryan while he practiced playing shortstop.

My job was to stand a few yards behind him and catch what he missed.

It went well, and the time to go home eventually came. My dad gave Ryan a high five for a job well done. He came up to me and put his hand out for my turn. I was carrying the bat at the time, so I pretended to hit his hand with the bat. He gave out a small chuckle.

Then I gave him an actual high five... well, I attempted to do so, with the bat still in my hand.

Thus, when I tried to slap his hand, I nailed myself in the back of the head with a baseball bat. An aluminum baseball bat.

And it hurt.

Then Ryan starting throwing balls at me, knowing full well my arms were full and my head was pounding. Little monster left a mark.

I just hope he shows the same enthusiasm when he's at a real game.