"So I wanted to play basketball..."

I was in Wal*Mart the other day, and while in the sporting goods section, I copied some little kid and started dribbling a ball up and down the aisles. Up and down. I was having tons of fun. The friend I was with got really annoyed, though- girls are no fun. She tried to kick the basketball away from me while I was dribbling. I couldn't play in there anymore. But I decided that this summer I'd like to get in shape while playing basketball. One-on-one with some people, you know? Hopefully people who weren't expecting me to be any good.

Today in school, all I could think about was how nice it was outside, how I'd love to go out and play basketball. The day drudged along, and when I was finally out of school I had to talk to a couple of teachers. Drag drag drag. Finally my friend gave me a ride home- I almost asked her to play with me, but she had work, and I don't think sports are her thing- girls are no fun.

I came inside and started wondering if I even had a basketball. I asked my mom, she said she wasn't positive, but she didn't think so.

"Buy me a basketball." I told her.
"No," she responded, "I can barely pay my bills this week."
"There's one at Wal*Mart for only four dollars."
"I'm not spending four dollars on a basketball. Get a job and buy it yourself."

She left to go visit my grandmother, and I was momentarily discouraged, but decided to search the house. I searched my nephew's stuff, on the porch, in the garage. Finally I was victorious- I found a basketball in the cellar. It needed to be inflated, though. I knew we had a bike pump somewhere, but I was nervous that I might not be able to find a pin. I looked in with the nails, where my family tends to keep anything small and metal, on the shelves near the washer and dryer, and then in the junk drawer. Just as I was about to give up, I found one! Hurrah!

"All I need now," I thought, "Is the bike pump. That won't be hard to find."

Famous last words.

I looked in the cellar, near where I found the basketball. I looked where the bikes were. I looked in the closet with the rest of the sporting equipment. I looked out on the porch. I went back and looked in the garage again. I wished my mom was home so I could ask her, because she always seems to know where everything is. It wasn't in anywhere that it would make sense to be.

I started looking in really screwy places. My room. My sister's room. My parent's room. The cabinet in the bathroom. Behind the refridgerator. I sat down and tried to picture anywhere in my house that there could be any reason for it to be at all. I started to second-guess my sanity, and ended up looking under the couch cushions before I collapsed onto them, exhausted and defeated. I tried to console myself with the idea that at least I had expended as much energy trying to play basketball as I would have actually doing it.

Just then, my mom came home.

"Hey mom," I said to her, "Do you know where the bike pump is?"

"Yeah," She said. "On your head."

I touched my head and sure enough, there it was! I had been wearing it the whole time!



On with it.