Half a Point

A: Did you agree with the point I made on the blog about supporting the troops but not the war?
K: Um, actually, I sorta disagreed with you.
A: But didn’t you see my point at all?
K: I saw a "half-point."
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Lately Kevin has been whining about not having any good guy friends to shoot hoops with. (Mark Bigger goes to Bakersfield to play rather than Sacramento.) ;) So, alas, yours truly has decided to help fulfill his burning desire to play basketball. (Aren’t I a good wife?) It’s been fun, actually. We’ve been goin’ to the basketball court almost every evening for the last week. Kevin shoots more "seriously" than I do. I like to attempt to make baskets by throwing the ball under my legs, behind my back, etc. Kev tries to shoot them so they go IN the basket. Last night I asked him, after making only one shot out of 10, "If we were playing teams and you were the captain, would you pick ME?" "Of course I would," he said. "Even though I really stink?" I further inquired. "Naw, actually, you’re pretty good - for a GIRL."