See? I have drained my wine to dull the shock of that practically preschool-aged child playing basketball with my husband.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlE84leKNkLbS6EYfz-Q4JgWQs5rbE87pd5skV214Or1Mb9U6TRRMp-4NmfXmyPrRzFLj6ZI66RnyXF7SUyshrcXSoXnkdDFpzrTndtKO-72ND9gNPrbf36t-Qp9IuZQigN73mTRqYEsk/s320/IMG_2607.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlE84leKNkLbS6EYfz-Q4JgWQs5rbE87pd5skV214Or1Mb9U6TRRMp-4NmfXmyPrRzFLj6ZI66RnyXF7SUyshrcXSoXnkdDFpzrTndtKO-72ND9gNPrbf36t-Qp9IuZQigN73mTRqYEsk/s320/IMG_2607.jpg)
He can run! And kick! And dunk the basketball!
The concept of dribbling the ball is still a bit beyond him, though. Thank goodness, I am glad he still does SOMETHING like a little kid.
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