Christmas Bowling

A-child with me,
wearing the christmas hats we
dutifully unpacked on day 2
of Advent calendar-dom.

One of the accidents that has crept onto our family Advent Calendar is now become a tradition.  Last year (. . . or was it the year before?  I can't remember. . . ), I was wracking my brain* for an activity to complete the annual Miser Mom Advent calendar.  Surely between seasonal chores like "get out x-mas clothes" and "wrap presents" on the one hand, and scheduled events like "caroling with the church" on the other hand, I could come up with something good to fill one pesky empty date?  In a fit of silliness, I added, "X-mas bowling". 

* I had to look the spelling up because I wasn't sure about that "w".  

It turns out that both "wracking my brain" and "racking my brain" 

are correct.  Go figure.

Unbeknownst to me, my only birth-child had developed hugely fond memories of bowling with her now-distant friends and with her father (who passed away a few years ago).  She was thrilled beyond my reckoning to see this activity reappear in her life.  I won major Mom-props with my silly advent entry, let me tell you.

So X-mas bowling is now a thing.  

How do you do Christmas bowling, you ask?  Well, first you dress up in Christmas clothes (which of course includes Santa hats, but also festive stockings and such) . . . 

. . . and then you go bowling.  

The two activities are not as mutually exclusive as you might think at first blush.  For example, as part of our bowling experience, we got to put on bowling shoes that were remarkably Christmassy.

Bowling shoes!  They match our hats!

The first game of bowling this year was fun in an ordinary kind of fun way.  Then A-child and her mom K-daughter showed up, and during the second game things got really peppy.  We lost all pretense of being any good at bowling (because: we're not), and we put up the bumpers.  No more gutter balls!  Whoop!

Even better, since we'd already shunned all pretense of ability, I wielded my power as Matriarch-of-the-X-mas-Bowlers to declare certain special rounds. Round 4 (at the request of I-daughter) was "granny bowling": two hands, between the legs.  Round 7 was "bowl with the wrong hand" (my favorite -- so uncomfortable it was funny).   Round 9 was dragon bowling. 

What is dragon bowling, you ask?  It's designed for the youngest of bowlers, who get to direct their heavy bowling balls down a plastic slide shaped a bit like a dragon.

Dragon bowling is awesome for the youngest generation . . . 

But the purple plastic slide looks like such a hoot that older bowlers get a bit jealous of the toddlers.  An excuse to stoop to dragon bowling, while blaming all stooping to peer pressure, is therefore welcome.

. . . and for the middle generation, too.  

I-daughter says that one of the reasons she loves bowling is the same as the reason she likes mini-golf.  It's a game that just about anybody can play, with or without talent, and that groups of family and friends can therefore play together.

Especially as I try to nudge myself (and the orbit of people around me) gently away from the material aspects that have pervaded Christmas, it's nice to have a new and even memorable way to celebrate the season with my family.  To strike the right tone (heh-heh), and to have so much fun we can spare to share it with others  (snirk snirk). 

I'm not wrapping presents with a bow . . . but we are making advent festive with a bowl.  That's Christmas bowling.