On my birthday, April 14, I found myself at a bowling alley in Highland, UT with mom and Lindsey.
Up first, mom confidently dribbled the ball down the lane on her approach:
Lindsey corrected her, "No, no! You're supposed to roll the ball down the lane to knock down those pins at the end!"
I demonstrated the correct technique for mom, illustrating the importance of flinging your left wrist behind your back:
Mom said a prayer to the bowling gods.
Then she bowled a strike by directing the ball using telekinectic powers, a little trick she learned from reading Marvel comics as a kid.
Feeling challenged, Lindsey mustered up all her bowling skill:
But as she swung the ball exuberantly, she whacked herself in the knee and fumbled.
Meanwhile, mom struck (striked?) again!
Lindsey's hopes of winning sank.
And mom swaggered overconfidently.
As for myself, I kept above the fray by taking a lot of inane and unbecoming bowling pictures.
