My sister left a snarky comment telling me that all my facts in this blog post are wrong. So what! My brother is 17 and regardless of what grade I was in, or thought I was in, the story was just something that my mom and I were reminiscing about at the ball game. I will leave it as is.
I was a senior in high school, halfway through my senior year.
Basketball season was in full swing.
We had just celebrated Christmas and the arrival of my new baby brother.
The shock of a little, cuddly, crying person had probably worn off a bit and we were in full swing stare mode. You know the sort - when you lay the new baby on mom and dad's water bed (oh, that water bed!) and kneel around the edge of the bed and just stare at him and his soft peach fuzzy body in awe and wonderment.
And so it was, that there was a new baby boy and a daughter who was a senior in high school (and a really nice sister who was a sophomore and on the basketball team, too). and it was probably the first basketball game after the Christmas break.
That baby brother was barely a few weeks old, if that.
Because my mother is devoted to her children and because she loves basketball and because at that time in her life (like all others) she was a bit of a work-a-holic and unstoppable she of course came to the basketball games....with that tiny baby.
That evening of basketball was the very first basketball my brother ever watched. Well, ever screamed through because I don't really remember him being at my games as a wee one, except that I have a vision in my memory of my mom standing in the nooks and crannies of bleachers bouncing a screaming baby.
Back then he didn't like basketball.
Oh what a difference 17 years will make.
Last night I watched him play basketball (rough JV game but perfect Varsity game) in the first gym he ever went into in his life.
And I was there with my kiddos to watch him.