The little guy was safely ensconced with friends, and the big guy announced we were going bowling.
Bowling? We hadn’t bowled more than once together ever, and I hadn’t gone bowling in at least a decade, but OK! We had a couple of hours to spare — ha ha.
So off we went to Big Al’s, where we got our shoes, our lane, our beer and pizza. (All we needed were monogrammed shirts and custom bowling balls.) Both of us actually hit some strikes and spares … one of us more than the other. I lost both games.
Bowling seemed so much easier than I remembered. I think it had something to do with becoming a parent. After dealing with public tantrums and other situations, it seemed like nothing to roll a ball down an aisle and knock over a few pins.