That's what Gabriel says to me when we go to the Rec Center. Or when we're in the backyard: let's play soccer ball with each other! There is something about the "with each other" that melts my heart.
We've developed a routine that we indulge in at least two or three times a week. After we drop Frances at school in the morning, we head over to the Rec Center. Gabriel hangs with Ms. Vette in the child care area, and I spend half an hour on a machine, half-engaged by a battered glossy magazine, or The Today Show or whatever is on the big flat screen TVs. Then I exchange my drivers license for a ball at the front desk and run down the stairs, all sweaty and full of happy anticipation, ready to see Gabriel's face light up at the sight of Mama and a basketball! Even though I do this every time, his smile never fails, his run is always his very fastest, his shout is always the same: YOU BROUGHT ME A BASKETBALL, MAMA! He sandwiches the ball in between us and hugs around my legs.
And we head to the courts. Yesterday we heard the sounds of an experienced player shooting hoops, so Gabriel ran straight to him to watch. He likes to be as close as possible to men who are playing, and narrate their game. HE MADE A BASKET!!! Or sometimes: he ALMOST made a basket!! Some people think this is sweet, and some people are a little annoyed by the distraction. Yesterday's solitary player welcomed the attention.
What's that, little man? You gonna shoot some 3 pointers? You gonna play with me?
Gabriel joyfully squatted down and rolled the ball towards the man, then did a little dance, waiting for the ball to come back.
Your mama play ball? To me: you play basketball?
Oh, gosh, no no, I said sheepishly. Well, I play with him. I mean, I like to play a little. I'm a good roller, you know.
I'm so used to thinking of myself as totally inept when it comes to balls, I start to panic if someone suggests I might be able to play. Anything. Ask my intimates. Frisbee games have reduced me to tears, church picnic softball games have inspired me to spearhead the clean up efforts. Anything to avoid begin asked to join in. Oh, me? I'd much rather collect trash on my hands and knees than frolic in the sunshine, thanks anyway!
At the Rec Center with Gabriel, I am trying on a sporty me, in the safety of Gabriel's adoring smile. He yells YOU DID IT! when I make a basket. He is my biggest fan. And playing ball is fun. I feel like I am in someone else's body sometimes, as I skip down the stairs in my running shoes with a ball tucked under my arm to meet my boy.
It's just one of Gabriel's gifts to me. Do I play basketball? Yeah. I do.
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