“Well Little Man, it’s just you and me today,” Jim told his son as he made his way to the kitchen, holding him carefully in one arm as he rummaged in the cupboard with his free hand. “Mom and Liv are gone, so you and I are going to watch some basketball.”
Jack’s wide eyes followed Jim’s every movement from his perch in Dad’s arm - from finally finding the bag of Doritos pushed far back behind the cans of soup and veggies (carefully hidden out of reach from Liv, who had recently started climbing on the counters after giving up climbing the bookshelves), to grabbing a can of grape soda from the fridge. Jim was talented, that’s for sure, managing to balance all that and get back to living room just in time for tip-off.
Tossing the chips onto the coffee table, Jim cracked open the can with one hand and took a long sip, Jackson on his lap facing out so he could see. Logically Jim knew the idea of Jackson actually watching the game and focusing on it was impossible, but still he pointed out the players, the refs, and the general purpose of the game. Jim had decided very early on that while Pam had passed on her love of Disney movies to Olivia, he would do the same with his love of basketball and Jackson.
“Alright, those guys in the stripes, you have to watch out for them, they’re referees. They make sure everyone plays fair and no one gets hurt. Sometimes people get cracked in the mouth with an intentional elbow anyway but…that’s a whole different story.” Jim shook his head at the memory; it was pretty obvious why he and Roy had played with such intensity but now it seemed pretty ridiculous in retrospect.
The whistle sounded as the players moved into position for the jump ball. Boomer’s head jerked up at the high-pitched noise, but seeing nothing amiss from where he was, he yawned again. Slowly the pup that Olivia had begged for literally for two months got to his feet and jumped up onto the couch beside Jim, circling twice before settling at the far end. Boomer had generally stayed away from Jack, confused by this little lump that never did anything but sleep, poop, cry and eat. But now that Jack had gotten a little bigger – could hold his head up for more than three seconds at a time, sit up on his own, and even roll over – Boomer had become more interested. Not enough to get close yet though, and Boomer mostly stuck by Olivia’s side, but he watched the infant carefully whenever they were in the same room.
“Okay Jack, those two in the middle, they’re centers. They’re the tallest guys on the team and they get a chance at the ball first…” Jim reached for the Doritos and popped a few chips in his mouth. He shifted Jack so he could have a better view of his son’s face; Jim felt a little guilty for just plopping himself down in front of the television for a game, but this wasn’t just any game: it was Duke vs. North Carolina. His alma mater vs. the team he grew up cheering for. It was a love/hate relationship and Jim never missed these games.
“See the one with the ball right now? He’s the point guard. Those guys are usually the shorter ones, the quickest; they control the ball and the tempo of the game pretty much. Like the quarterback…if you knew what football was…”
Time passed quickly and soon it was nearly half-time. Jim had properly explained each position, the different fouls, free-throws, three-pointers, and so on. Jackson, of course, retained none of this information as he was more content trying to get Boomer’s attention and playing with the toys scattered on the couch beside his father.
Jim took a drink of his soda and Jackson watched him intently, reaching out his arms toward the can as Jim set it back down on the coffee table. “Oh I see how it is, you’re bored already, huh? Time for something to eat?” He got up from the couch and Boomer followed. Pam had prepared two bottles before she left, just in case, though Jim went for the cabinet where they kept the jars of baby food.
“So what do you think, Jack? Pears? Squash? Carrots?” Jim rummaged around and finally selected a jar of peas, then grabbed a tiny spoon before heading back into the living room. Half-time analysis was nearly as important as the game itself. Jim twisted the lid from the jar and already Jack’s tiny mouth was moving, anticipating his lunch. Boomer sat at Jim’s feet, tag wagging quickly, and tongue hanging out.
When the whistle blew a few minutes later to signal the start of the second half, Jim had completely lost interest in the game. He’d moved himself and Jack to the floor after his son was done eating and brought the baby toys along with. Jack was babbling away happily, clapping his hands as Jim threw a tennis ball and Boomer bounded after it into the kitchen. Jim couldn’t stop smiling; he was so in awe of this little person, his son, who was so in awe of everything going on around him. Sometimes Jim still couldn’t believe that they were so lucky to have two beautiful, healthy children.
As Boomer returned triumph, tennis ball in his mouth, Jack clapped again.
“Dadadadada!” In Jack’s overzealous attempt to take the ball that Boomer dropped at Jim’s feet, he nearly toppled over but Jim caught him before he face-planted in the soft plush carpet.
“Careful Little Man, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Jim helped Jack regain his balance right-side up, keeping a hand on his back to steady him. Boomer sat patiently, tail still wagging furiously, waiting for Jim to throw the ball again.
Jim took the ball and placed it in Jack’s hand, enclosing his own around the baby’s. Gently he drew Jack’s arm back, then moved it forward in a throwing motion and Jim flicked the ball from Jack’s hand. It didn’t go nearly as far as it had the first few times, but that didn’t stop Jack from shrieking in laughter, watching Boomer follow the ball again. Jim loved that sound almost more than anything else in the whole world.
By the time Pam and Olivia returned from their expedition two hours later, the game had ended and all three boys were fast asleep on the couch after a hearty lunch of Doritos and strained peas. Boomer had been successful in licking the jar clean once Jackson had eaten his fill. Jim had set the jar down for not even five seconds, when Boomer knocked if off the coffee table and downed the remaining contents. Jim lay stretched out on his back, his large hands protectively securing his son in place. Jack was curled up on his chest with his arms and legs tucked beneath him, bottom up in the air. Boomer lay sprawled across Jim’s shins, tongue still hanging out, snoring loudly.
“Okay Livy, be very quiet, Daddy and Jack are sleeping…” Pam ushered Olivia into the kitchen and set their bags on the counter.
“I don’ havta take a nap do I Momma?” Olivia’s eyes were wide; she hated naptime almost more than bath-time.
“No baby, but let’s go out to the studio and draw for a while, does that sound like fun?” Pam reached out her hand and Olivia slipped hers into her mother’s.
“Yes Momma,” Olivia agreed in a whisper. “Daddy and Jackson are sleepy babies!” She giggled as Pam led her out to the studio.
“Yes…yes they are.” Pam returned the smile and cast once last glance at father and son, snoozing away on the lazy Saturday afternoon, before gently closing the studio door behind them.
