Caroline woke up last Thursday and, per her quaint and annoying custom, asked what we were doing for the day before I could even manage to get my eyes open.
“Umm, I don’t know what we’re doing.”
Not to mention I’m not sure where I am or what day it is.
“I KNOW! LET’S GO BOWLING-BALLING.”
And because I made the mistake of smiling at the way she said “bowling-balling”, she misinterpreted it as an agreement.
I keep a mental list of things I don’t want to think about before 10 a.m. It includes such things as global warming, the presidential elections, the stock market, and going bowling.
I can’t commit to bowling, or even bowling-balling, before noon.
So I told her we had plans to meet Bops for lunch and several errands to run. If we got everything done, we’d see about going bowling.
And everyone knows “we’ll see” is mama code for I’m going to put this off and hope she’ll forget about it by 2:00 p.m.
We met Bops at China Sea, which has a buffet that defies the laws of gastrointestinal science. Does anyone really want to eat a spring roll on the same plate as some Cajun-style crawfish and sweet-n-sour chicken with some canned pears thrown in for good measure?
After lunch, we stopped by the elementary school to turn in all her Kindergarten registration paperwork. It wasn’t heart-wrenching at all and the office staff didn’t even seem to mind that I launched into a rendition of “Sunrise, Sunset” while I sobbed and held Caroline tight.
I bet they can’t wait for the first day of school in the fall. That’s when I’ll wow them with my performance of “Circle of Life”.
There were a few more errands to run, but I decided we might as well do a little bowling-balling.
After the whole Kindergarten registration thing, I realized she’ll be leaving for college in about two weeks. And she’ll drive off in some type of electric car while I lament the fact that we didn’t spend enough time at the bowling alley.
Because isn’t that the regret of every parent? Not enough bowling.
We ran by the house to pick up the necessary socks to ensure that neither of us contracted HORRENDOUS FOOT FUNGUS OF DEATH BY BOWLING SHOE, then picked up her cousin Benjamin because I knew she’d have more fun with a friend.
Once we arrived at the bowling alley, I paid for our games and got the kids some rental shoes. I figured I’d just let them bowl while I sat back and offered helpful bowling strategies, such as how to push the button to get someone to bring you snacks from the snack bar.
I had to drag them away from the arcade games because LOOK! we can bowl. They have bowling here! Remember that thing that you’ve been begging to do all day?
So, they bowled. And, in spite of the bumpers, they both managed to roll a gutter ball, which I think takes a tremendous amount of skill. I could tell the bowling staff was highly impressed at what we brought to the game, especially when I took off my shoes and tried to walk barefoot down the lane to retrieve the ball stuck between the gutter and the bumper.
And I decided that an afternoon at the bowling alley isn’t a terribly horrendous way to spend a few hours, except for the fact that they only serve Pepsi products. However, they make a delightful giant pretzel that is equal parts buttery and salty goodness.
Plus, the music at the bowling alley totally rocks. In fact, I may start hanging out there just for the pretzels and the 80’s music. In the time we were there they played “Oh Mickey”, “Fight for Your Right to Party”, “Love is a Battlefield” and “Smooth Criminal”. Any playlist that includes the Beastie Boys and some vintage Michael Jackson is right up my alley.
Do you see what I did there with the reference to the alley?
All cylinders today, my friends. All cylinders.
You’ve been hit by, you’ve been struck by, a smooth criminal.
We were almost finished with our game when an elderly couple came in and started bowling a few lanes down from us. They were easily in their 80’s and were clearly veteran bowlers because they owned their own bowling balls complete with monogrammed bowling ball bags. They were precious. And it made me hope that P and I still bowl together when we’re in our 80’s because it just seemed so sweet.
Then I remembered that we don’t bowl together now. In fact, I don’t know that we’ve ever bowled together. But as God is my witness we’re going to start sometime in the next forty years.
If for no other reason than the pretzels.
And the music.