I have to admit a silly little hobby I’ve developed. I like taking topics relevant to my life, things I may have actually journaled about myself, and then seeing how some of the wordsmiths I admire might describe it. Here’s an example of ChatGPT suggesting how the legendary Vin Scully may have regaled us with the joys and pains of managing a toddler.
“Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats. The game of parenting a 3-year-old is about to begin. Imagine, if you will, a ballpark not filled with fans, but with toys scattered across the outfield, sippy cups perched precariously on the infield, and a mound that’s just the right height for a tiny pitcher who doesn’t so much throw fastballs as toss Cheerios with wild abandon.
Ah, the three-year-old, a true double threat! They’re as curious as a rookie stepping onto the diamond for the first time, and as unpredictable as a knuckleball on a breezy day. One moment, they’re the sweetest slugger you’ve ever seen, running full speed into your arms with a grin that could light up Dodger Stadium. The next, they’re a base runner caught in a pickle, wailing about a lost toy as if it were Game 7 of the World Series.
Let me set the scene for you. The day begins early, as if they’ve got an East Coast road trip schedule to keep. The morning is filled with small victories and dramatic defeats: a successful mission to put on their shoes, followed by a heart-wrenching meltdown because the oatmeal is ‘too lumpy.’ You’ll learn to cheer the wins—‘And he eats all his broccoli! What a clutch performance!’—and let the losses roll off like a foul ball into the stands.
Now, parenting a three-year-old is not without its strategy. You’ll need the patience of a bullpen coach, the flexibility of a shortstop, and the creativity of a pinch hitter. The ‘why’ questions come fast and furious, like a batting practice session you didn’t sign up for: ‘Why is the sky blue?’ ‘Why can’t I have ice cream for breakfast?’ ‘Why does the dog bark?’ Every answer feels like stepping up to the plate with two outs and the bases loaded.
But oh, the moments of magic! Watching a 3-year-old discover the world is like witnessing a home run hit deep into the night sky—awe-inspiring and unforgettable. Their laughter rings out like a perfectly struck ball, soaring high and true. They have an uncanny ability to find joy in the smallest things—a dandelion in the grass, a butterfly fluttering by, a cardboard box that becomes a spaceship.
And let’s not forget, folks, that every day with a 3-year-old is a doubleheader. The afternoon might bring a nap that’s fought harder than any pennant race, and bedtime often feels like extra innings. But as the house finally quiets, and you steal a moment to watch them sleep, you realize you wouldn’t trade this game for anything in the world.
So here’s to the parents out there, grinding it out day after day, finding the beauty in the chaos and the poetry in the madness. Because, as any baseball fan—or parent—knows, it’s not just about the wins and losses. It’s about the love of the game.”