Things You Can Only Get Away With When You’re Four
So I’m at the Reds game Sunday with my family and telling my four year old we’re rooting for the guys in the red shirts. So the guy in the black shirt steps up to bat and Zeke yells at the top of his lungs, “Hey blacks, get out!” I resist the urge to remind him we’re a block from the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center and he really shouldn’t say things like that, and tell him instead, no, call them the Rockies please.
sounds like a really race-charged game of checkers to me