This weekend, I have been in Cleveland which has a balmy temperature of 7° this morning (that is indeed Fahrenheit, not Celsius) and as I usually do when away from home, I revisit a previous Sundays Are For Sebastian. Since I am in Cleveland, helping Nathan move into his dorm at Case Western Reserve University, I thought I would repost an interaction with him from four years ago, when he was 16.

While this space is usually used to recount the utterances of our younger son, Sebastian, today the quip is from our older boy. Nathan is closing in rapidly on 17, is 6’4″, a junior in high school, and finds his parents to be extremely un-cool.

As some may already know, I was volunteered (by my wife) to coach the JV Boys Basketball team at our sons’ school. Having coached at a fairly high level in my pre-kid life, I was confident that I could do the job but wary about coaching my son.

After one game (a win, which has been a fairly surprisingly frequent occurrence this season) in which Nathan played particularly well (somewhat rare), I was looking at the scorebook when Nathan peered over my shoulder to get a look at his stat line.

Nathan: “Wow! I had 30 points?”

Me (I had already determined that he had 13): “Nope, look at your jersey. That’s your number, you dope.”