I've been meaning to get my kids to the basketball half-courts in the park across the street from our condo for over a year now. We're at the park playground often but it took me a while to realize the green netting in the distance was a water treatment plant instead of tennis courts so maybe I'm not the most tuned into sport facilities.
Daisy announced recently that basketball is really important to her fifth grade teacher and that she's so bad at it that her teacher told her to practice outside school. I was like GREAT, I just downloaded Couch to 5K so exercise is obviously part of our family routine in a new way now. You will get that ball practice.
Today, I located our cute family basketball that we had never actually used before and marched my daughters over to the park. I started Daisy off on dribbling on our way there. Violet immediately spazzed out with jealousy, grabbing the ball away from her big sister before fumbling and almost tripping over it then bouncing it against a curb so hard she took herself out. I could see we had a few things to work on.
But I haven't played basketball in a long, long time. The last time I can remember that wasn't at Chuck E. Cheese was probably a decade ago. And did I mention I'm not much of an athlete? Still, my dribbling looked like butter compared to my offspring. I gave them lots of encouragement but I also celebrated my victory loudly from the half courts when I beat them in PIG. In your face, kids.
Later, on a walk, Daisy turned to me, "So you got that good from watching TV?"
I didn't know what she was talking about but I liked the sound of her question . . . so good at what?
Oh I didn't learn that from TV! Just played growing up. Not on a team. Just for fun.
Daisy clarified, "I thought you would stink. But you're really good. You make a lot of baskets."
I hesitated but realized it was probably the last time in her life she would think her mom was a good athlete. Why ruin the moment? Like mother, like daughter.
Yeah, all it takes is practice.