How to poison a child in 9 innings

Today was Little League for both of my boys. First, at 8 a.m., both Brian and Adam had games. Then Brian had a second game at ten. So, imagine my dismay when I arrived at Brian's second game and saw a bright yellow sign posted prominently on the batter's cage that said "CAUTION - Pesticide Application - KEEP OFF". A photo of the sign is shown at left. Please take note of the children and dog pictured with a slash through them.

The sign was as clear as day that the field was OFF LIMITS until noon today.

My first instinct was to be angry at the city for violating the little league's permit to use the field. But my anger quickly turned to confusion and concern: my child had just played NINE INNINGS on a dry dirt field that had been SPRAYED WITH POISON!!!??? Could this POSSIBLY BE TRUE???

In my moment of denial and confusion, I walked up to the Team Manager and was like, "Excuse me, but did you happen to see this sign?"

He was like, "Oh, yeah, that's right. I noticed that. I was wondering about that. Hmmmm..." His voice trailed off. Amiable enough guy. But JEEZ.

Next, I found Brian and The Husband practicing throws in the poison dirt, and said, "Did Brian play on this field?"

I already knew that the answer was yes.

"Do you slide into base?" I asked Brian.

I already knew that the answer was yes.

"Did they wash their hands before eating their snacks?" I demanded of The Husband.

Why did I bother to even ask?

This is disturbing on so many levels:

• New York City's UTTER DISREGARD of our little league's playing permit.
• The Team Manager's poor judgement in allowing the children to play on POISONED DIRT! (And consider this: each team has, not one, but TWO Team Managers! So, with two teams playing at 8 a.m., that makes four team managers that ignored the unambiguous warning sign!).
• The parents' poor judgment in allowing the game(s) to go forward.

And now, my OWN poor judgement in not dragging Brian home with me. As I write this, he is playing Poison Baseball, as his father watches, his father, who told me to stop going after the Team Manager like a pit bull. I guess I was embarassing him. Bitchy wife. Crazy mother.

May I scream now? ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

YC

P.S. I lodged a complaint with the City's "Citizen Service Center", with the Little League and with Asa Aarons. Now I am so tired, I just want to go to sleep. Anger is exhausting.

Update: I have since calmed down. Showered my kids, took a long hot bath and then I felt moved to put myself into all four of the Marichyasanas. Happily, my binds were strong in every one of them. This helps me immensely because it tells me that I still have these postures - that they are not lost. They may be hiding during practice. But hiding is much better than gone.

YC