For some reason I didn’t plan on this happening. With me as his mum, and all. My sweet little man is turning into something of a little jock…and daredevil. It started with sliding down the slide, facefirst. The he busted out his smackdown wrestling moves. Practiced on yours truly, and perfected at daycare. Then his fake-out kung fu moves kicked in. He’ll catch you completely unawares. Toddling over, looking all innocent-like. Like he’s going to give you a hug or a kiss. Then suddenly…he springs into action…
Krack!
Pow!
Blam!
…with one of his knees or elbows connecting solidly with your most vulnerable parts. Now he’s thrown a new sport into the mix. Basketball. He’s watched a few games with grandpa. He’s also been given two sets of miniature sporting balls…and seems to prefer the basketballs (over the footballs and soccer balls). And now he has access to a basketball hoop. Said hoop has been offered up to us, on a more permanent basis. It’s under consideration…but the prospect is an exhausting one. First of all, I’m not entirely sure where I’d put it. There’s not a flat spot in the entire backyard. He’d either be hurling the ball even further up, or throwing it down. Downwards might not be so bad. In order for him to reach said hoop he must be hoisted up. No small feat, with his size. And with him squirming and flailing about, desperately trying to get the ball in the hoop. In the below picture he’s nearly falling off of a certain someone’s shoulders (which can’t be safe for either party). I don’t wish to quell the little man’s interest in the sport…but perhaps he should wait until he’s a bit taller. And more coordinated.
