Basketball

Usually on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, Audrey and I go over to my in-laws and visit with them for a few hours while Ava is at preschool. Today was one of the nicest days we've had in quite a while. As we pulled up, my father-in-law moved his truck to make room for a morning game of basketball.

After breakfast and coffee, we headed outside. We played a version of softball that my father-in-law created. It consists of a bat and a mop pole. The mop pole has a string attached to it at one end, and a tennis ball at the other. We wave the pole over our head like a lasso while Audrey stands at the ready with her bat. I guess the point of this is there is no pitching or retrieving involved.

After a while, I got bored of waving the pole round and round so we switched to basketball. At first, we just took shots- backwards, from the neighbors driveway, and from tricky angles. Then we played a game of PIG. I was the first to get a P which was quickly followed by an I and G. This was followed by more impossible and creative shots. And then...

Audrey-"Mom lets play HORSE."

(Which is the same concept as PIG just a different animal.) Right?

I quickly discovered due to my complete lack of basketball skills and my daughter's sweet 9 year old innocence, that playing HORSE is not quite the same as playing PIG.

Shocking, I was the first to get an H. This wasn't completely unexpected, but what was to follow was. Here comes O. My daughter started calling me a HO! This was followed with,"Just like Santa Claus, Mom! HO, HO, HO!!" Ho, like Santa? Of course! The game resumes. I think Audrey got an H before I messed up again.

I got an R. Yes, now my daughter started calling me a wHORe. This was unsettling, but I was confident that in no time my name would change and my daughter would finally end the game by calling me a HORSE. I never thought I would actually be happy to be called a horse until today.