Freckled Women Can’t Shoot Hoops

by Marinka on March 28, 2012

I remember when he was born.

It was as though I were a carrier for Husbandrinka’s genes.

“He’s totally you,” I said, holding Young Ladrinka.

“I know,” Husbandrinka said, not displeased.

“Maybe he’ll have my freckles,” I suggested.

“You can’t have freckles if you look like me,” I remember my husband saying. I knew what he meant. Italian-via-New-Jersey-American doesn’t go with freckles.

And yet my son has them.

Sometimes more than others.

Like on Monday, after playing basketball with some kids in my in-laws’ neighborhood.

“Let me put some sunscreen on you,” I told him that morning and I was smearing it on, he was complaining.

“Just because you had skin cancer, doesn’t mean you need to give me sunscreen cancer.”

But I kept at it.

Stop photographing me! Ok, is it done? What about now?

Yesterday, he asked if he could give me a basketball lesson, and how could I resist?

He analyzed my shot. The news wasn’t good. Apparently I was shooting like I was doing a chest pass and that just doesn’t work. “Seriously, Mom,” he said, “even if you got all your shots in, no one would recruit you with the chest pass shots.”

“You don’t know that,” I said, not knowing what I was talking about, but outraged about the prospect of not being recruited.

“Concentrate on your shot. Power and aim,” he instructed me. And then as I missed shot after shot, he repeated it. “Power and aim. That’s how LeBron does it. That’s how Kobe does it.”

Suddenly I had an epiphany.

“Maybe I’m not good at it because I don’t have a weird name like LeBron and Kobe?”

He looked disgusted. “No, Marinka is weird enough, trust me. You need power and aim.”

I missed very many shots. Most of them, if you must know. The ones that I did make were like those random typing monkeys that manage to peck out a Shakespearean play. Or maybe a sonnet?

“That’s ok, mom, we’ll keep working on it. Even if it takes our whole vacation.”

I honestly can’t wait.

One year ago ...

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{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }

Kirsten March 28, 2012 at 1:01 am

I love this. I really hope your skills improve Magicinka.


Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes March 28, 2012 at 7:12 am

Young Ladrinka must have read your previous post and decided – quite like the gentlemanly young man that he is – to provide his poor mother with some blog fodder and improve your basketball skills in one go. How kind of him.


meekasmommy March 28, 2012 at 10:29 am

I’m pretty sure that even without any more practice, you could beat me. But enjoy being schooled by your freckled son all week!


b a seagull
March 28, 2012 at 11:08 am

He is adorable and handsome, all in one. Must be the freckles.


Becky Rice
March 28, 2012 at 12:28 pm

Love that he wants to spend the whole vacation teaching you the skills.


March 29, 2012 at 3:52 am

This is my favorite post of yours ever. That is all.


The mama bird diaries
March 29, 2012 at 7:18 am

If I had basketball team, I would totally recruit you.


March 29, 2012 at 7:28 am

Adorable. I love your sappy side. Also your freckles. Freckles are a sign of intelligence. At least that is what this freckle face tells people.


Alexandra March 30, 2012 at 10:34 pm

See that? Such simple writing. Everything but the essential pared away.

No 8 dollar words. No twisted unknown reference from the Shakespearean era.

I think there should be a Humor Writing Analysis: subject MarinkaNYC.

Because I come here and just study exactly how simply, yet instantly you do this.


Alexandra March 30, 2012 at 10:34 pm

Oh, forgot to say: adorably funny.


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