Invited bowling after school, bumper ball. Arrived, got their shoes, know their sizes because we just bought summer sneakers and sandals. Our group had gathered a bunch of 6-pound balls already at the lane. There were five bowlers, two were mine, for two games.

My boys were more interested in the video games along the back wall than in bowling. I went through $9 in quarters for them.

Towards the end, the younger one grew worn out and his older brother took over his turn. For him, Brother bowled a strike and a spare, so that the younger one ended up with the highest score. Not that he cared.

I tried to work on the older one's form. My sensibilities were offended at how he hurled the ball down and, if not for the bumpers, every toss would have been a gutter ball. He's got power but every hit against the bumpers reduces that power. However, I wasn't successful at even getting his fingers right. He has already developed an approach in only three trips to the bowling alley and after one particularly violent throw resulted in a strike, another mother undermined my constructive criticism by telling him not to change what's working so well! "Yeah but, Marion, it would have ended up in the gutter." Tut, tut.

I've always enjoyed bowling, 'though I'm not any good and haven't any form. A good game would break 100. I can count on both hands the number of times I've actually bowled. My father bowled every Friday. Afterwards, he would bring home his own dinner: a submarine sandwich of ham & Swiss cheese with oil. During Lent, he would just have cheese. We kids always scrounged bites from him. Jeff's mother is a bowler, and bowled a 300 game not too long ago.