Last week, WCK and I went bowling with our stay-at-home moms' group. I think I've only been bowling two or three times in my life -- not counting the times I'd sit and read a book while my grandma went bowling -- and I am terrible at it. I don't think I've been inside a bowling alley since college.
This bowling alley, however, set up a few lanes just for our group of mostly three-year-olds. The lanes had bumpers on the sides so that the balls would head toward the pins every singe time. I discovered that bowling with a bunch of three-year-olds is wildly hilarious and wildly frustrating at the same time. First of all, the kids all got teeny little bowling shoes (hilarious), but then they discovered that they'd have to take turns with the bowling ball (frustrating).
Why was taking turns so frustrating? Have you ever seen a three-year-old "bowl"? The child rolls the ball. It wobbles slowly toward the pins. You wait. And wait. And wait. You go home. The child grows up. She graduates from college. She goes to med school. At her med school graduation party, you talk about that time you went bowling together when she was three. You decide, for old time's sake, to head back to that same bowling alley. As you walk in the door, the original bowling ball she launched when she was three is just now hitting the pins. This is how slowly three-year-olds bowl.
In the end, WCK bowled an 80 and beat the three three-year-old boys she was bowling against. I was bursting with pride, because I have never won any kind of athletic contest whatsoever, unless you count mini-golf. One of my friends pointed out that WCK might not have followed bowling regulations when she chose to lie on her back and kick the ball down the lane with her feet, but I'm going to overlook that for now. We'll talk about it at her med school graduation.