The Bigger They Are, the Harder They Bowl

We spent last weekend visiting family in Logan. On Friday night, after enjoying a peaceful, childless dinner at Cafe Sabor with my brother Rob and his wife Kirsten, we picked up our kids and headed to the Cache Valley Fun Park for some bowling. Unbeknownst to us, it was cosmic night.

This was Eddie's first time bowling. He had a grand time rolling his ball down the ramp (and even ended scoring higher than Kristen). But every once in a while I thought I caught him eyeing that lane with a glint of mischief.

We finished first, and were waiting for Rob's family to wrap up their game. Well out of arms reach, Eddie finally made his move and took off running down the lane toward the pins. My parental radar was on high alert for a moment like this, so I jumped out of my seat without hesitation to chase after him.

I guess I never realized just how well-greased those lanes are. As soon as I crossed over the line (accompanied by an electronic alarm), my feet swung out from under me and I landed hard on my backside. Luckily Eddie stopped to see what had caused the ground to shake. I was a little dazed, but was able to compose myself long enough to grab his arm and retreat.

Back on less treacherous ground I surveyed the damage. The black light was picking up streaks of grease on my body and clothes. The arm I used to break my fall had a bleeding scrape. Rob and Kirsten were making no attempt to hide their smirks. Kristen grabbed our things as I cleaned up in the bathroom, then we made a hasty departure.

There's one thing from this mishap that I don't understand. Eddie tripped over his own feet twice simply walking across parking lot when we arrived, yet he somehow managed to stay upright charging down a lubed-up bowling lane. Why he did it isn't as much of a mystery. I can only assume he wanted to see where the pins go after they get knocked down. If he would have just asked, I could have shown him this clip: