Quinn—entertained by our growing angst—had stopped crying now, and William looked ready to start. I was mortified that we were arguing in front of the kids, in public, on vacation … in public! I grew up in small-town Ireland where public—and even private—displays of any kind were frowned upon. I wished we could all just fold into a family hug, but the troops were already committed, the battle cries sounded. I waved to the gaping benchwarmers and asked if they were enjoying the show.
William asked if we could just leave for the game and I said that he and Dad could go but Quinn was in no form for another outing. I then muttered under my breath that I’d hang back and diffuse another toddler mess. Adam hissed through clenched jaw that he’d stay back with Quinn. Fine! FINE!
As we were shouldering up for a you-say-sorry-first stare-down, William interrupted that he’d end up missing the game if someone didn’t leave soon. Quinn cried that he wanted to go too.
I squashed sad little grass-stained toddler socks into unloved shoes and shoved them into my backpack as Adam hoisted Quinn onto his heavy shoulders. I grabbed William’s hot grubby hand, and our unhappy family fled the scene of our meltdown in the President’s backyard.
It was a quiet metro ride back to the hotel.
We washed and changed quickly, the kids floating high on a second wind—Adam and I deflated. All earlier thoughts of late-night sex in the cool hotel shower were now washed down the drain.
We got to the ballpark and the kids (appropriately) had a ball. By all appearances, we were a very polite family, carefully thanking and excusing each other, in the way that two parents pretending not to ignore each other do. Quinn’s halo was shining now that his horns had subsided, and William was blissfully lost in the glory of the game. I took pictures of myself looking miserable, as my three ball boys were too busy watching the game to notice. I felt completely crushed and stunned that we had fallen apart so dramatically earlier. I was mad at myself for trying to check off sights on my vacation list rather than just enjoying the city with my family. I was mad at Adam for being mad at me, and mad at me for being mad at him, and then mad at him again.
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