Basketballllll

Jack has a mystical connection to basketball at this point in his life.

Lest I be accused of hyperbole: At many of the playgrounds we visit there is a basketball court nearby. Inevitably Jack will hear the sound of the bouncing basketball. He will climb down off the slide or leave the swings and wander over to the fence until he can see the court. Then he looks for us with arms outstretched, his intent crystal clear: bring me over THERE! I need to be THERE!

We will mosey over and sit at the edge of the court. In the mornings, when we are there with Jack, the courts are fairly empty with just a few people shooting and messing around. There will be a random ball at the side of the court. It takes Jack less than a minute to find the unoccupied ball and then he begins his sweeping arcs toward the ball.

He will move away from us toward the ball and then veer back, just checking on us. The next swing gets him further away from us but closer to the ball, and then back for a quick check to his home base. Finally, on the third swing towards the ball, he breaks free of our gravitational pull and heads for the BALL.

At this point, we pick him and the ball up and put them on the side of the court out of harm's way. j He will sit, spread-legged, with the ball between and his hands on either side as if he's reading the magical vibrations coming from the ball. In his hands, the ball appears to be more of a Ouija board than sphere.

To preserve our back story that he is the perfect child who never complains, I will save for another post, what leaving the bball court is like. Let's just say for now that it is loud, full of protest, and great umbrage is taken.

Have a good night!