Last night we were bowling with the kids. It seems a little weird that
bowling is our family outing with little kids but it is my daughter's
favorite thing to do. It might lose out to riding on a flying pink
unicorn but only by a little bit. I think she might like the nachos that
we get at the snack bar more than she likes the actual bowling but she
is always interested in whether or not she is winning.
Both the kids were using bumpers and the ramp last night and they both wanted to carry their own bowling ball from the ball return to the ramp every frame. We had the super-light bowling ball for them to use but this was still heavy for the four year old. For the two year old it was more like a fifth of his body weight. He wasn't going to give up though. Twice every frame he would toddle from the ball return to the ramp at the head of the lane and lift the ball onto the ramp like the world's strongest man lifting an atlas stone.
About the ninth frame my daughter paused after her turn to ask me if she was winning. While I was kneeling down telling her that of course she was winning, my son grabbed his ball and was off to the races. I noticed him as he stumbled across my field of vision. I don't know if he was tired and couldn't carry the ball in a straight line or if he was just tired of using the ramp and wanted to bowl in an open lane but he was headed, full speed for the lane next to us.
I tried to get to him, really I did. But by the time I skidded to a stop next to him he had already thrown his ball down the lane. The ball was rolling at crawl but I was just late enough that I couldn't reach it by just sticking out my arm.
I was mortified. What do you tell the people in the lane next to you? 'Sorry my son bowled you're tenth frame for you. Hope you weren't going for a 300.' To make matters worse, the ball was going so slow that once it inevitably fell into the gutter the extra friction stopped it completely. Now we had to wait for the lane manager to come and rescue our super-light bowling ball from the gutter of the lane next to us.
I'm sure this won't be the last time we go bowling. I just wish we could get the same enthusiasm about the nachos without the rest of the bowling experience.
Both the kids were using bumpers and the ramp last night and they both wanted to carry their own bowling ball from the ball return to the ramp every frame. We had the super-light bowling ball for them to use but this was still heavy for the four year old. For the two year old it was more like a fifth of his body weight. He wasn't going to give up though. Twice every frame he would toddle from the ball return to the ramp at the head of the lane and lift the ball onto the ramp like the world's strongest man lifting an atlas stone.
About the ninth frame my daughter paused after her turn to ask me if she was winning. While I was kneeling down telling her that of course she was winning, my son grabbed his ball and was off to the races. I noticed him as he stumbled across my field of vision. I don't know if he was tired and couldn't carry the ball in a straight line or if he was just tired of using the ramp and wanted to bowl in an open lane but he was headed, full speed for the lane next to us.
I tried to get to him, really I did. But by the time I skidded to a stop next to him he had already thrown his ball down the lane. The ball was rolling at crawl but I was just late enough that I couldn't reach it by just sticking out my arm.
I was mortified. What do you tell the people in the lane next to you? 'Sorry my son bowled you're tenth frame for you. Hope you weren't going for a 300.' To make matters worse, the ball was going so slow that once it inevitably fell into the gutter the extra friction stopped it completely. Now we had to wait for the lane manager to come and rescue our super-light bowling ball from the gutter of the lane next to us.
I'm sure this won't be the last time we go bowling. I just wish we could get the same enthusiasm about the nachos without the rest of the bowling experience.