Basketball Star

There is a Ghosthunters marathon on all day on Sci-Fi today, and where am I? I'm at work. It is a cruel, cruel world.

Holiday weekend was fun, I hung out with friends and saw some movies and blah blah blah the usual. I *did* also get to hang out with Celeste on Saturday and I introduced her son to two very important things.. Ghostbusters, and trash-talking.

I was out on the porch smoking and picked up the basketball and dribbled it a few times, and that's all it took for Sam to come out and want to play. He's the adorable with big brown eyes so of course I did. Also, the hoop was only a foot above my head so I could pretend I was Michael Jordan. I never know what to say to kids, so it went something like this.

Me: *makes basket* Look at that, look how awesome I am! You can't do that cause you're short!

Him: Gimme the ball!

Me: No way, shortie, get it from me.

Him: *hangs onto my arm*

Me: I'm sure that is illegal, but look! *makes basket* I can still play with a small boy attached to me, that is why I am incredible and you are NOT!

Him: *silly little boy convulsions*

Me: *holds ball over my head* Look at this! You can't even get the ball from me! You'll never be in the NBA!!

Him: *HANGS on me*

So, this goes on forever and of course I'm not a monster and only did it because he was having so much fun. Everytime he missed I was like "What was that? What are you, 6 years old?" and then when he made baskets I cheered. I also picked him up and carried him around under my arm all "I am so awesome that I can CARRY you and STILL make baskets, this is how impressive I am!"

So I ask him if his mom taught him to trash-talk, and he says "You are terrible!" and I laugh and tell him no.. you have to tell everyone how awesome you are, and how bad they're gonna lose, but you can't be too mean or else it's no fun. Got it? He got it.

So, we're playing, and Celeste leaves to go next door to her dads house to pick something up and I pick him up to let him drop the basket in like he's crazy tall.

He doesn't let go of the rim.

Me: Sam! Let go!
Him: No!
Me: Sam, you gotta let go!
Him: No way! It's fun!
Me: Dude if your mom pulls up and you're hanging off the rim I'm gonna be in so much trouble!
Him: Okaaaaay. *lets go*

See, us 6-year olds have to watch each others back, right?

So a few minutes later he makes a basket and I cheer.

Him: What's the score?
Me: 47 million to 2, you're losing.
Him: NUH-UH
Me: UH-HUH
Him: What's the score?!
Me: Um, I'm pretty sure it's like 187 to 45, I'm awesome.
Him: No way!
Me: I'm pretty sure that's the score.
Him: Nuh-uh!
Me: Okay, it's 14-12.
Him: Who's winning?
Me: You are, little man.
Him: Look how awesome I am! HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!
Me: You have learned well, grasshopper.

And then we went inside and watched Nickelodeon and now I finally know which one is Drake and which one is Josh.

My life is now complete.