Nissim's Big Shot

Nissim, a bouncy two-year-old who loves basketball more than anything, is getting used to noisy days with Jido teaching him trick shots, when a brand new baby brother arrives and turns his quiet court time upside down. At first Nissim tries to keep the baby away from his orange ball, worried the newcomer will ruin everything, but a wobbly toss and a surprising giggle change his mind. With Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, and Jido cheering from the sidelines, Nissim discovers that sharing his favorite game makes the win even sweeter. The story is a warm, rhyming celebration of family, new siblings, and the joy of passing something you love to someone small.

Nissim loves his basketball, round and orange, small and **fun**, he dribbles on the wooden floor until the day is **done**. Jido claps and shouts "Sh-oop!" when Nissim takes a **shot**, the ball squeaks on the polished rug and bounces quite a **lot**.

One cozy night his Mommy sat, her yellow knitting **spun**, "A baby brother's on the way, and soon you'll play as **one**." Nissim smelled the lavender, his cardamom tea **hot**, he hugged his little rubber ball and hid it in his **cot**.

Then came a day of tiny cries, and soft, wet baby **squeaks**, a brother wrapped in yellow moon with warm and rosy **cheeks**. Grandma rocked him on the chair, while Daddy held him **near**, but Nissim hid his basketball and watched them from the **rear**.

Nissim tried to shoot a hoop, but baby's cry was **loud**, he missed the tiny wall-mount board and bumped a table **crowd**. It knocked the cardamoms and tea, and tipped the yellow **yarn**, the ball spun out the open door and bounced toward the **barn**.

Kind Jido caught the rolling ball and knelt down on the **floor**, "A wobbly pass can still be caught, we do not close the **door**." He rewound the yellow yarn, and wiped the wooden **space**, then gently rolled the orange ball back to its starting **place**.

That night the baby fussed and squirmed, and would not go to **sleep**, so Nissim tiptoed in the dark, across the rug to **creep**. He rolled his ball along the floor, so soft and warm and **near**, to touch the yellow blanket edge and chase away the **fear**.

Then Eli made a squeaky sound, and held the rubber **tight**, he giggled at the orange ball beneath the pale moonlight. And Mommy smiled from by the wall as Daddy cheered out **loud**, with Grandma waving from the hall and Jido standing **proud**.

Now every morning, side by side, they share the wooden **space**, they roll the ball across the rug from place to happy **place**. "Sh-oop!" says Nissim, toothy grin, his brother's hand in **his**, they hold the ball and sit to watch how sweet a family **is**.