Our basement is dark, cold and my least favorite place to be in our house. Consequently, it is the most neglected portion of our home and my favorite feature is the door that separates it from the rest of our house. The kids absolutely love to play in the basement since there is no worry of breaking any of Mom’s precious picture frames or getting yelled at for jumping on the furniture. The toys down there are spewed about like a yard sale and currently there is a hole in the drywall the size of soccer ball (kicked really, really hard). The kids are constantly begging us to come down and play with them and Maverick is always the one to eagerly respond (I just don’t do well with cold, dark places). I was up early yesterday morning and heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I knew immediately it was Sport since it was a vacation day and he certainly wouldn’t be sleeping in. He popped his head in the office where I was working and asked if I would go down in the basement to play with him. I completely cringed. Not only did I hate going in the basement, but it was a very dark morning…on a dismally cold day. Didn’t he know this was torture to me? As much as I wanted to suggest a cuddle in front of the fireplace instead, I reluctantly followed him down the shadowy stairs to his turf. He threw me a basketball and we played some serious mini hoops until the sunlight was streaming through the window and sweat was dripping down my face. After an awesome morning play date together, I now saw the basement as a bright and warm experience thanks to a kid who forced my eyes open to see it.