19/52 – Early Saturday morning. Despite a full day of soccer yesterday and a late night last evening, you’re up early and running circles around your dad and me (ah, to have the energy of youth again!). The basketball net is getting a lot a use these days; a gift from friends who didn’t want to move it with them to the States. You were at us before we even ventured downstairs to move the cars back along the driveway, or even onto the street so that you could practice. What you lack in height, you make up for in determination and perseverance. I can hear the ball dribbling, it swooshing into the net or pinging of the back board from my open bedroom window. You shooting again, and again, and again. One hundred shots you tell me when you come in for water. All before I’ve had my morning coffee.