How can you not love t-ball?

Little boys (and girls) playing t-ball has to be the cutest thing ever! Seeing the kids in their cute little matching uniforms, batting helmets, which are waaaaay too big, scurrying from base to base, scuttling to catch the ball (sometimes it makes it to the outfield), and drawing in the dirt when the game has gone on for too long...And let's not forget those rare events that make the game more interesting. Like the kid in the outfield who screams, "I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!" Or the player who catches the ball in mid-field, and everyone cheers for him. Or the kids getting on the field together, slapping hands and saying, "Good game!" Watching the kids leave the field happy, after having fun with other kids their age, not worrying about who won or lost, who scored the most, who is or isn't a good player...the excitement of just playing is still there, before Little League turns it into one big competition.

The birds!

So, I drive a really lame car. Very lame, indeed. A minivan. I was pretty excited about it at first, but now, the fact that my mommy-ness follows me around everywhere I go, kids or no kids, is a bit irritating. I should have gone with the Suburban.

Anyway, since Spring has rolled around, I've had problems with birds using my car as their, um, restroom facilities. Not my neighbor's cars. Not my husband's car. My car. Why my car? Is there something special about my car that attracts birds? Is my car not lame enough? Do the birds convene with each other, trying to make my car lamer than it already is? Yeah, let's poop bomb the minivan! One on the windshield! A little on the side! Some on the bumper! (Yes, the BUMPER). That should make that lame minivan lamer! Washing it, yeah, that works...until the next bird comes along...