Bowling

My niece turned 5 years old this past Monday. To celebrate, she had a bowling party. The party was Sunday.

We had quite a range of players at this little party. We had several 8-and-under types, who could barely get the ball all the way down the lane even with the bumpers. We had folks like me, who will occasionally bowl a strike and then follow it up with 3 straight gutter balls. And then we had an actual honest-to-goodness Pro Bowler. He's a cousin of mine who just turned pro a couple of months ago.

The scores ranged from 32 to 235. Our Pro player had a bit of an off game.

Our Pro player also came with gifts for just about everybody. He had a Scooby-Doo bowling ball for my nephew and a Barbie bowling ball for my niece. She's not quite 25 pounds herself, so an 8-pound ball is a bit much for her. But aside from the fact that she couldn't lift it, she seemed to like it a lot.

He also brought out around 8 of his old bowling balls. He just more or less tossed them in the center of the gathering and said, "anyone who wants one, go ahead."

I have my own bowling ball now. I bowled an 88. I bowl, at most, about once every two years. But I have my own ball now. It's purple, with swirly bits.

I love it.