Early Sunday morning, I found myself perched on a set of Middle School gym bleachers.  Looking out onto the basketball court, I spotted my son.

He was guarding another kid, who appeared to be number 5.  The strange thing was that the other kid’s jersey was on backwards.  Yep, the 5 was backward.

Shrugging, I continued to watch through sleepy eyes.  Then I noticed the other kid again, the one my son was guarding.  Uh, he wasn’t backward number 5, after all.  The opposition was number 2.

Rubbing my eyes, I considered the likely culprits.  Either I need to start wearing my glasses again or I had better increase my caffeine consumption.  That or the kid really was backward number 5.