Rah, Rah, Rah

I like basketball. I used to love basketball back when I played a whole lot and was in really good shape and shooting a 3 pointer was easy and making one was even easier. Now I can't even muscle one to the basket (Ok, I really can - on most days.) Anyway, Darren likes basketball too. Especially the Cougars. In fact we had quite the male "bunco party" going on at my house today just to watch BYU's big game.

Alright back on track. I like basketball, Darren likes basketball, we want our children to like basketball. So we take them to basketball games. College games, high school games, rec league games. You name it. Exposure is the key. So is popcorn. Lots of it.

Last week while we were cheering on the Lamar Lady Savages I was busy thinking how fun it will be when my kids are old enough to play. I might have even smiled to myself. Me and my dreams.

That's when half-time showed up. Along with it came some horrible music and some even more horrible cheerleaders. I was cringing watching the girls dance but I applauded their effort. I held my breath as they attempted what could only be called "throws". I looked away as they "shimmied". When it finally ended I breathed a sigh of relief and looked around trying to get the images out of my mind. That's when my eyes found Brooklyn.

Brooklyn. It was like a ray of sunshine was spotlighting Brooklyn's face. Eyes bright with excitement. Huge, beautiful smile on her face. Rosy cheeks. I felt a cloud cross my own face.

"Mommy, I want to do THAT when I get big!!"Giggle, giggle. "That looks like soooo much fun!"

I quickly covered Darren's ears, gave Brooklyn what kind of a smile I could manage and acted like nothing had happed.

I couldn't help it. I looked at her from the corner of my eye and knew. I have known for a while now. She's a prima donna. She innately strikes runway poses. Looking good is a top priority. Shwe wants her hair as long as Rapunzles. My little Brooklyn is going to be a cheerleader.

I have already started to accept the fact. Darren, however, is a different story......

And now I will go wipe my tears and see if I can find a pink basketball anywhere. Maybe, just maybe, that's the tide turner I need.