Life's Lessons from The Bink

I remember reading an article ages ago about a cat that lived in a nursing home. The cat acted as signal to the nurses that a patient was about to pass. He/she would visit the patient shortly before and stay until the patient had died. For all you skeptics no, the cat did not smother the patients; he merely sensed that his presence was needed to comfort and soothe them.

Tonight we were on Round Three of putting HRH to bed. He's not loving Baseball Camp, which consists of three hours a day of practice in hitting, throwing, catching, and fielding. I'm not a fan of quitting things before they're seen through. At the same time, I'm not leaving him there for that reason alone.

(a) God, I need three hours a day of one fewer child.
(b) We paid $125.00 for these 12 hours
(c) He likes baseball and is a pretty good hitter and thrower. I want him to have a recognized skill he can be proud of.
(d) I want him to be well-rounded and physically fit.
(e) He does not dislike it. Everything he's said had been reasonably positive. About how nice the coaches are, how the other kids are fun, and how he got to play an actual game with the 5-6-7 year-olds.
(f) Did I mention he's there 3 hours a day, exhausting himself?

So, HRH being HRH, he blames this for his failure to sleep, then working himself up to believe that he couldn't sleep because of Baseball Camp Angst.

During Andy's turn to re-put HRH to bed, the cat showed up, lay down on HRH's pillow and began to nuzzle his nose into HRH's hair. My (human) boy got a huge smile on his face, closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep. All because The Bink knew his presence was needed to comfort and soothe him.