Today at dinner, I was telling a story about running into a former student of mine who plays on the basketball team. I mentioned that he had torn his ACL. Lucy asked for more information, and I explained that he had hurt his knee. Here's what followed (roughly):
Lucy: He has a boo boo on his knee?
Me: yes.
Lucy: The next time you see him and I'm with you can I see the boo-boo?
Me: Well, Lucy, this is the first time I've seen him in two years, so I'm not sure I'll see him again.
Lucy: Well, if we see him, will he play basketball with me? Because I know how to play basketball. And we can play at the Red Sox.
This conversation is dedicated to Uncle Brendan, who will be horrified that already, my daughter's go-to sports reference is the Red Sox, and, moreover, she believes that they play basketball. But on the up side, she knows how to play basketball. So she's got that going for her. That, and being the Truth of Everything (see previous post).
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