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D.J.’s basketball team has improved a lot since the start of the season. Well, they’re six-year-olds. There’s nowhere to go but up, in every way imaginable. The trouble is, the other teams got better, too, and they’re all taller for some reason. The Bulls didn’t get many rebounds today, but they got some good shots off and made some baskets. They still lost by a mile and five-eighths, but unless they asked the scorekeeper, they wouldn’t even know that.
And I was a little distracted, so I didn’t keep track of the score the way I usually do. Aiden came to watch his big brother play, and he plopped down on the bench next to me. At first he was happy just to watch the game, but that didn’t last long. He’s nineteen months old now, with the proportionate attention span. Sitting isn’t one of the things that keeps him interested for very long.
Besides, there was a bottle of water. Tammy had got it out of the machine for herself, but I don’t think she got to drink much of it. Aiden decided he needed a sip, and then another and another. He let me hold the bottle for him, so at least he didn’t tip it upside down and pour it all over himself, as he sometimes does. We both got a little wet, though. That’s just the way things happen.
Every time he wanted to drink, he’d take the pacifier out of his mouth, walk over to where my mom was sitting, and hand it to her. (“Here, Grandma Great.”) How she got to be the designated holder I’m not sure. He’d forget about it for a while, but when he wanted it he knew where to go to get it back.
When Dakota came over from the other side to sit with us for a while (he had come to the game with his father), Aiden walked up and gave him a hug and a big kiss on the cheek. And then another and another, because once is never enough, especially if everybody oohs and ahs when you do it the first time. The two of them were dancing madly on the treadmill that was up against the wall of the gym, to music only they could hear.
And then Aiden decided he needed to test the limits. He’ll be two years old later this year, and he seems to know that there’s a certain responsibility that goes with being two. The sidelines had a gray floor, and the court was brown. Tammy told him to stay on the gray and not touch the brown. He knew exactly what he was supposed to do, because he immediately stood right on the edge, with the toe of one shoe touching the brown.
She convinced him to get back on the gray, because he’s a good boy and all that, but as soon as he thought no one was paying attention, he stood on the brown again, with both feet. She gently moved him back to the gray, and he stood there, looking out at the court and bawling his little eyes out, as if he’d just been told there was no such thing as ice cream (or Chex Mix).
He was tired, but the game was almost over, so he’d be back in the comfort of his car seat soon. It was such a quick game that I think they only played three quarters, but I can’t prove it. It’s up to the home team to keep track of those things, and we were the visitors. |
