Am I Stupid, a Jerk, or Some other Adjective?

Every year I go to a different baseball stadium with a couple of friends.  We’ve
gone to San Francisco, Philadelphia, Cincinnati, Pittsburg, Baltimore, St. Louis,
Washington, Boston, Detroit, Cleveland, and LA.  This year we decided to go to
New York.

Here’s the problem: I’m editing a book.  I couldn’t afford to take a weekend off
and head to New York to watch a few baseball games.  I’ve been delaying it for
far too long.  It should’ve been done weeks ago. It shouldn’t take me too long
to edit a book – this is my dream after all.

And going to New York would mean leaving my wife alone with Xavier, who’s only
11 months.  Xavier was having his first swim lesson.  And Monica was going to a
party an hour and a half away, which meant she’d have to travel three hours
alone with Xavier in the car.

The Monday before, I realized it was a stupid idea.  I got an email from my
friends.  It cost 180 dollars per night to stay in Manhattan.  And add another
160 dollars for the two tickets.  I pulled out my checkbook.  All I had to do
was write a check for 340 dollars and I’d be free to work on my editing and I’d
be able to help Monica with Xavier.

Monica refused to let me.  She insisted I go.  She didn’t want me to break up
the tradition.

So I went.

I packed my laptop with my USB.  Maybe I could do some revisions while I was in
New York.

Wrong.

I called Monica on Saturday morning.

Xavier loved swimming.

He laughed and the teacher picked him when modeling what to do.

Things where great.

Monica and Xavier were happy.

I went to the game.

The Yankees won.

Everything was going according to plan.  I hoped to do a little editing before
going to bed.

Then Monica called again.

Xavier apparently missed his father.  As Monica drove home, he wouldn’t stop
crying.  She put the cell phone on speaker as I heard Xavier make sounds like a
wounded animal.  He cried and cried as Monica had to stop nine times.

Nine times. The hour and a hour ride took over three hours.

Xavier sweat so much that his clothes were soaked.

So was his hair and the car seat.

Monica was frazzled.

As I helplessly listened to Xavier crying for a half an hour.

If only I didn’t go, this would not have happened.  And writing
that check for 340 dollars would have saved me a lot of money.  Do you know how
much food costs in Yankee Stadium and in New York City in general?
Yankee Stadium is beautiful.  They spared no quarter when they made it.  But
looking at it, I felt miserable even though the Yankees won both games.
Am I stupid for putting off editing and finishing my manuscript so I could spend
a weekend in New York?  Now my book will come out at least a week later – if not
longer.

Am I a jerk for leaving my wife alone with Xavier wailing in the back seat – not to mention missing his first swim lesson?

I decided that this would be my last year to indulge in Baseball Weekend.

KJ Kron