sheesh.

Last night I went to my son's basketball game. He's about as interested in basketball as I am but for the sake of learning teamwork, and experiencing the camaraderie a young boy does while on a court of some sort, we encouraged him to give it a try this season, just to see if he liked it. You can’t know if you like something until you try it at least once right?

Unfortunately for him he’s not yet mastered the skills associated with basketball, and spends the majority of the games warming the bench. Occasionally he’ll get a few moments of play time and I cheer my baby boy on like any proud Mother will do. I cheer him on even when he’s on the bench, despite the goofy looks I get from the bleachers, and I take pictures, and scrapbook them for a later date in time. He looks so darned cute in his little uniform, I just can’t help myself. I’m proud of him for even trying because I know what it would be like if I was out there trying to do that whole dribble and run at the same time thingy. It wouldn’t be pretty I can tell you that much.
It wouldn't.

At the moment, i'm not feeling up to snuff. I've got enough bacteria in my chest to qualify as a walking pitri dish. The lung funk that's going around caught up with me and I have coughed myself hoarse. I'm sure the folks in the bleachers didn't appreciate my hacking up nuclear material all over the place, but I wouldn't miss an opportunity to cheer for my Little Man, ever.

It's time to medicate, and get some sleep.

Say goodnight Suzanna