My son comes home from playing basketball, holds his hand up in front of me and says, “Let me see your fingers.”
I don’t know what he’s up to here but I put my palm against his palm and we compare fingers. They’re about the same. Mine are maybe a little longer.
“HA!” he says. “It’s your fault I can’t dunk! Bad genetics! I can get over the rim but the ball comes out of my hand because I can’t palm it.”
“Hmmm,” I say. “I could palm a basketball easily when I was your age so your theory doesn’t really stand up to scrutiny.”
“Could you dunk?” he asks.
“I’m still working on that. I hate to admit it but I don’t think it’s going to happen for me.”