Thursday night, at basketball, this happened.

Our family has just completed yet another season of Little Dribbler Basketball. This time, it was a team for Fox and Mav. They've got that whole thing going where you're born at the same time; therefore, you automatically get on the same team. As a parent, it's really the only way to do it. I efficiently had my children; therefore, we get double of everything! I'm getting off the subject.



Back to basketball!




'Round these parts, I'm sort of known as an energetic team supporter. I cheer a lot. It's usually loud. It's always positive, unless I'm pointing out some obvious mis-cues. Really? I'm just here to help. I've never been asked to sit down, be quiet or otherwise leave the building. To sum up -- I've never been kicked out of a game. Never even given a warning! I'm just spirited. Yes. That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

Thursday night, the Bossman was given a warning. I wouldn't believe it, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes! A happier night, I've never had at a basketball game.



I believe the Bossman's exact words were, 'Come on! Call the fouls!' Oh, it was a joyous evening!

The rest of the basketball tournament, the officials 'had their eyes on us'. Which is nothing new for me, but the Bossman couldn't hide behind that mustache anymore. He was a target!



So, for the record.... family members please take note...

It wasn't me this time!