1, 2, 3, Slide

"I don't want your advice," Noah whined, head down as he slumped into a chair, frustrated with the gutter ball he'd thrown for the umpteenth time.

(Mom had insisted this eight-year-
old bowl without bumpers, offering stepping and hand-
positioning lessons with some success.)

"Can I have quarter?" Noah asked looking at the vending machines for consolation. Dad dug in his wallet and pulled out a dollar, saying: "See if you can get change."

Noah returned handing back one quarter and showing off his mouthful of gum balls.


Meanwhile Aaron aired his hands, lifted out his ball and chided us to watch his

(in a very screechy, high voice)

"SWEET skills." Translation: a few strikes, some spares and several gutter balls.

Dan bent his knees, hunched with his ball close to his mouth and focused on the pins before scampering up to release his tries at speeds of 20 mph... compared to the rest of ours at 9-15 mph.

Aah... how modern-day technology brings novice bowlers into the leagues of televised professionals.

Bing! Bang! Boom! Dan shot his fingers towards the floor – "Happy Gilmore" style as he "one up-ed" the boys with a strike.

During the
manly competition
of the third game,

Isaac came
off the bench
and into his own –

showing brother Aaron

hows its done

versus

talking it all up.


At the mention
of a "Game Four,"
Mom put
her foot down.

Time to

1,2,3 Slide

into the restaurant
for supper.

Too mushy to ski. Too risky to ice fish. Too wet to hike or picnic. That's why we bowled this Spring Break!