Back in 2015 when the basement was under construction, I found Reggie's ability to branch out and create a basketball court in my bedroom a pain in the neck (or forhead) . . . .literally.
If the constant pounding i.e. dribbling from upstairs wasn't enough to make me call foul, then I believe the following justified my use of other 'f' words: tripping over miniature balls left around 'the court' aka my room, reconstructing multiple laundry piles that may or may not have been utilized as steps to launch players closer to the hoop, and darting from the shower only to discover a heated game blocking the path to my cluttered closet.
Shortly before the basement was complete, 9 year old Reggie entered the family room with his friend sheepishly peeking out behind him. My first thought was it must be time for a snack if these guys had suddenly surfaced. Then I stopped folding laundry (I chose to fold in the family room since my room was off limits for me during play dates) and looked at their faces. Score a three pointer for Mommy for recognizing the guilty look right off the bat.
I asked if they broke my lamp. My little sports fan stammered out the situation while he constantly wrung his hands - hands that clearly ached due to the lack of a ball to bounce. Apparently, a ball got stuck on top of Coach's chest of drawers. It's a tall chest of drawers, so naturally Reggie scampered up to retrieve the ball.
The entire solid piece of furniture fell over. I couldn't believe it. How lucky that these guys weren't crushed under it! How lucky that Reggie's friend was standing there, so I couldn't crush my 4th son with my bare hands.
Coach lifted the furniture back into place when he got home. A nearby door jam was scratched and a picture frame was knocked down. Luckily, that was all. Just when you think you don't have to worry about furniture falling on your offspring.
We grew more and more desperate for the basement to be finished, and a few weeks later Reggie hosted another friend. We started off at the pool, but all good things must not end -so the kids begged to have their friends back to the house. The girls' time was spent dressing dolls and building rubber band bracelets in their disaster-area bedroom. Naturally the b-ball court was populated by the boys.
Later that night I tiptoed into my room. I was feeling along the wall for the light switch when I bumped my forehead on a foreign object. Unusual - since by this point I felt like I knew the way to my bathroom blindfolded.
I was surprised to be met with resistance when I attempted to push open the bathroom door. It finally budged a bit as I shoved it really hard. Why was it such a challenge to change into my PJ's? I finally flipped on the light switch I had been fumbling for.
A basketball hoop was fastened to my bathroom door. Thus the forehead bump. Why not? In order to keep the door from swinging open during a key play, an ottoman and a desk chair were stacked up IN MY BATHROOM behind the bathroom door. I struggled to fit into the bathroom with the crowded furniture.
As I hauled the ottoman over to the other side of the room, I saw it. There clipped onto my wooden plantation shutters was the second basketball hoop. Of course. The team needed a longer court to make things seem a bit more accurate. Using the main bedroom door and the closet door to position the two hoops was obviously unacceptable for our 'I'd-like-to-push-the-envelope' Reggie. The bathroom door facing the wooden shutters offered a much lengthier, more realistic court.
I wondered how they dealt with the queen size bed in the middle of the room. By the looks of the bedding, they had just played thru.
I announced that no more friends could be invited over until after the completion of the basement. This decision was met with unrest from the crowd. Perhaps a bit of additional pressure on Coach would lead to (dare I say) a finished basement sooner as opposed to later.
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