When Steve Nash hit that shot last night to send last night's instant classic (tm) game into overtime, I responded in my usual subtle manner of clawing at my shirt and eyes while jumping around and screaming very loudly. Elijah, who was in the kitchen helping Regina make cookies for our school's bake sale, responded in kind. He, too, began running around the house, jumping around, screaming very loudly.
It's hard to enjoy the moment when your wife is saying:
"Neal! You are making our son hysterical! And you scared him!"
"You scared me, daddy!" Elijah said. "You scared me!"
"Elijah," I said. "I was just rooting for the Suns. Are you really scared?"
"No," he said. "I'm just hyper."
"Do you want to watch the game with me?"
He sat down.
"This is a good game, daddy," he said.
"This is a sneaker commercial," I said.
"But they're playing basketball on it."
"Just don't root for the guys in the green," I said.
Later, when the Suns did something archetypally spectacular, Elijah jumped up and down and said.
"Hooray for chocolate! Ah! Ah! Ah! Hooray for animals!"
When the Suns won, I dropped to my knees to thank the great spirit of Cotton Fitzsimmons for his guidance. Elijah jumped all over me, a total spaz. I'm sure Regina can't wait for the playoffs.