To the Hoop

Basketball is not my favorite thing. But parenting is, so I do some things that sometimes I'd rather not. Like go to basketball games when the gym is packed to way past capacity I'm sure, and sit through two games because you have to get there eeeaaaarrrlllyyy to get a seat against the wall (sucks to get old, huh?) for the boys game.

I don't understand why you can't touch the ball with both hands and what the three second rule is. Or why sometimes the guy gets to shoot from the free throw line with no one else lined up around him. But it was the last game of the season, and we were playing our crosstown rivals (with the parents who don't show up to anything until happy hour is over) and it was Coming Home (where the boys are the ones who get the crown...hmmmm). I sucked it up and went. I figured at least the pep band plays really good tunes even if it means kids with painted upper bodies and no shirts dance around in tribal fashion.

Tonight is was so packed and so hot that I had trouble concentrating on the game. I was easily distracted.

I determined that I'm just not that into men who wear button downs and suit coats every day.

I concluded that kids with money just ooze something that the rest of us do not. I don't know what it's called, but they just ooze it, even if they are sweaty and running up and down the court.

I figured out that I really liked the industrial look of the lights in the gym. I asked the husband if we could find them locally. He looked at me like I had two heads and said, "Where would you put something that big?" I just shrugged.

I remembered why I am glad I make my kids say excuse me when they are trying to make their way through a crowded gym. Not beep, beep. I swear, some little runts actually said that to me tonight as they went to and fro too many times. I almost said beep, beep back to 'em, as in:

"Hey, you, if you don't sit the beep down, I'm gonna smack your beep."

Just when I thought I couldn't stand one more whistle blow by the overzealous ref, my son went missing and I was brought back from the OCD world of counting the number of bulbs on the scoreboard. He wasn't onstage and the band was playing. He wasn't walking toward me. He wasn't walking toward any of the exits. It was like a game of Where's Waldo?

The halftime buzzer buzzed (what else would it do?) and the husband says, "Look at those boys in Burger King hats."

And I'm like, "I can't, I'm scanning for Cody."

And he goes, "Cody is one of those boys wearing Burger King hats." And I realize they are going onto the court. What on earth is about to happen?

And all of the sudden it clicks! I am going to get to see his dancing debut. And because I had my iFlip with me, so are you. Yay you! Look closely...when I zoom in, he's in the back. Enjoy his fifteen seconds of choreographed fame. (There's no real good place to stop the video, so you'll just have to watch the flag girls finish the routine. At least you didn't have to sit through the whole game.)