Can you believe it?

How could these children be old enough to play real ball? where has the time gone? When Fifi was three she was three for about five years -- we went for looooooong walks, and spent endless time reading story books, and then she was suddenly this Amazon.

And Buster -- look at him. He actually looks like somebody else's kid, pitching a real ball in some foreign game that I happen to see as I sit at a picnic table eating take-out Thai food with my new husband. Not actually my son, whose uniform I washed and who learned how to pitch without my help whatsoever. (Of course, his father gave him some pointers ...)

I can't get over it. Gotta keep on having children, or they are all going to turn monstrously huge like this and I'll have to resort to those pathetic life-like dolls that have a little battery operated heartbeat and synthetic skin, and real eyelashes. Much better to just keep on having real ones who still throw easy ones that I can catch.