Pizza rolls, pizza, skillet queso, chips, beef jerky and homemade cookies fueled the raw, competitive energy as the deep oohs and OOOHHHs boomed for every basket. With every plateful, a new thank you, a new generous smile of gratitude.
During half time, this band of boys hustled outside and up to the park for some ultimate game of frisbee or other testosterone filled adventure. Then minutes after, the game ended - more thank you's as the door opened and closed and the happy storm gave way to silence. The solitary sound of my husband washing the dishes finds my computer and me.
This house felt real again - like it had taken its first deep breathe in twenty-two months.
I am not a Thunder fan; honestly, I despise professional basketball. I know - more imperfections.
For such great athletic ability, the players only spend it to be heroes instead of teaming together to create angles that thwart the offense or confuse the defense. As a result, neither an offense or a defense exists. In my opinion, it's not a game; it's just recess. However, tonight I am thankful for the Thunder because this house filled with children who ate, who laughed, and who befriended each other and that is a very good thing.