Why are you dressed like a boy?
I made the baseball team.
Oh, so you are a boy.
Get out. I need a change.
You seem upset.
I am.
Wait, you get picked on all the time.
How do you deal with it?
I usually start by telling myself how much smarter I
am than the person who's picking on me.
But that won't work for you.
Out!
They didn't just call me a boy.
They wouldn't sit with me at lunch.
No one talked to me at recess.
I don't think I want to play baseball anymore.
Hello?
I heard your daughter's playing baseball.
Baseball's for boys.
Says who?
Says everyone.
Save some pudding for your father!
Aw.
Okay, where was I?
You were telling me what was ladylike
and then yelled at your son like a dock foreman?
Come on, Mary.
Isn't one weird kid in your family enough?
You going for a record?
You're playing baseball.
Excuse me, your daughter's here to try out.
Come on, I'm not going to put a girl on the team.
You tell my granddaughter she can't play baseball?
Or what?
Or you and me gonna have problems.
We're back.
Gotta go.
We made the team.
And Meemaw got a date with the coach.
What?
Here she comes.
This is it.
Go get him.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Hold it.
It happens.
She's okay.
Hold it.
Listen to your Meemaw
kick his ass.
You gonna cry?
No, she's winning.
Rejected from your very first game.
I'm proud of you, slugger.
We are not rewarding violence.
But, I am glad you didn't let those girls
from school bully you into quitting.
That's my girl.
