Bowling for fathers
My beloved husband of lo these many years is adventurous, funny and game for anything. He’s also easy-going, low-key and is always willing to be the designated driver.

A week ago the Mondos invited us to join them for dinner and bowling – specifically candlepin bowling which is sort of a New England specialty. Mrs. Mondo’s dad was visiting from the Midwest and he’d never “experienced” small ball bowling.

I was totally ready for dinner and possibly bowling, but Deeps was anxious – he’s avoided bowling his entire life and wasn’t sure this was the time to start. The thought of putting on someone else’s shoe send him into near fits.

And yet we ate questionable Chinese food and then bowled for Mrs. Mondo’s father and he had a fantastic time. My husband clapped and cheered for everyone, and following my lead would start to spout random sports aphorisms.

Walk it off, he’d tell me after I had a particularly bad frame.

I told him he had good hustle.

He told me not to thread the needle when I had a particularly heinous split.

I told him he showed real heart out there.

The Mondos response was akin to humoring a dotty aunt.

Deeps wouldn’t cop to “having fun” but he did imply that bowling wasn’t awful (despite our tie for last place two games in a row). I told him cheap beer makes bowling more enjoyable, but he’s not interested.

Will we ever bowl again? I expect we’ll be game the next time someone’s dad comes to town.