Anything other than a wet glove

I’ve reached the taxi stage of parenting.
At least A had a good day. Came home from day one of a basketball camp beaming (partly because she got to have a post-basketball play date, but partly because she did seem to really enjoy it).
“I shot my first hoop today!”
Also lost her first basketball about an hour after it was bought, in a mysterious ricochet incident on our front step. It’s surely somewhere in our street, although our search party of three adults, a 7 and a 4 year old had no luck locating it…