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Bowling Tales

Our Summer O’ Fun continued with a trip to the bowling alley with friends.  Friends who bowl.  Friends who wheeled in fancy bags containing their own bowling balls (with finger holes drilled to perfectly fit their fingers) and their own sanitized bowling shoes.

It seems there has been some sort of homeschool bowling league which I’ve managed to ignore, but most of my teenager’s friends have frequented.

The most important aspect of bowling to one of my teenagers was the outfit. This would be the teenager who came up with this ensemble for 4th of July:


Patriotic shoes courtesy of Goodwill.

For her bowling debut, she wore a polka-dotted vintage inspired dress, with matching hair tie.  I wish I had a picture.  But just getting that one out the door takes every one of my very last nerves and I cannot in the heat of the moment even think about preserving said moment in picture form.

The other teenager can throw herself together in five minutes (she’s still in the will) and the boy child likely wore whatever it was he wore to bed the night before.

I found a bowling shirt on Fiddledaddy’s side of the closet.  If I’d had a cursive “D” I would have stapled it onto the front.

I’m here to tell you that I birthed 3 of the worse bowlers in the history of all bowling.  Emme SKIPS up to the line and tosses her ball into the air willy nilly.  She would turn and refuse to even look to see if she hit anything.  She relied instead on her friends to give her a thumbs up or down.

Cailey  tiptoed up to the line and let her ball fly.  I’m not sure she even broke 20.  BUT SHE LOOKED GOOD.  And that’s what counts.

Jensen’s ball often ended up in the lane next to ours.  In a bid to use the LIGHTEST BALL POSSIBLE, his fingers got stuck, so where his ball would end up was anybody’s guess.

No one was killed.  I’m happy to report that.

I, on the other hand, was in rare bowling form.  The following was captured by my nephew:

While I didn’t break 100, I did make up for it with enthusiasm.

And now I’m getting nice and familiar with the business end of the ice pack.  The children were all complaining today about various muscle aches and states of exhaustion.  They are going to be BEGGING ME to start school next month.

Mission accomplished.