Bowling Ball Paranoia

Sometimes adults forget how youngsters like to collect things. Don’t get me wrong, collecting stuff is fine, but kids like to collect the oddest things and for the most bazaar reasons.

For instance, your child brings home a stick. It just an ordinary looking stick, nothing special. A few days later, you’re about to throw the stick out when your child pitches a fit.

“Why don’t you want me to throw the stick away?” you ask.

“Because,” he says with a look of indignation, “when we go to the ocean I want to throw it in the water and see how long it takes for it to wash back to me.”

Never mind that you live in North Dakota, have never seen the ocean, and don’t care if you ever do. Heck, you can barely afford to put gas in the car to get you to work and back, let alone make a trip to the coast. But, there’s still a chance that some day you’ll go and he wants to be ready.

Middle son used to collect rocks. “So what’s wrong with that?” you ask. Nothing, it’s just that he was so sure every rock he saw was rare and worth a fortune, especially since a buddy of his, who was an expert on rocks (“he has a book on the subject and everything”), assured my son that every rock he owned was priceless. Consequently, no one walked around barefooted in our house unless stubbing one’s toes provided some kind of morbid pleasure.

As kids get older, the things they collect become even more bizarre. A few years back I looked out our front window and spotted some kind of black, round object in the gutter across the street. I asked eldest son to go check it out. A few minutes later he came waltzing through the front door with a 20 pound bowling ball in his arms.

“Can we keep it?” he asked, as if it were a puppy.

What was I supposed to say, “Only if you feed it and clean up after it?”

I figured the bowling bowl was probably meant for the Salvation Army truck, which was coming by that morning to pick up the neighborhood’s used goods, but while discussing this fact with my sons (by now all three were begging me to let them keep the thing), the truck passed by our house. We were stuck with the ball.

Well, months later that confounded bowling ball was still with us, and you know, that thing took on a life of its own (ever noticed how the finger holes in a bowling ball look suspiciously like a face?).

One time I tripped over that darn ball at the bottom of the stairs. After the pain in my big toe subsided, I made my way upstairs to the family room to watch T.V. When I finished watching television I arose from my chair, took two steps toward the staircase, and tripped over that dang ball again! It made me so paranoid I picked it up and searched for little feet on its bottom side.

That whole situation was reminiscent of an ugly growth on one’s foot, which, no matter what one does, it won’t go away.

But truth be told, I was almost afraid to get rid of that little ball--I feared it would find its way back to our home and seek revenge on me for trying to dispose of it.

I have to admit though, as time passed I became fond of the thing. It was so cute with its pug nose and beady little eyes. Besides, it became part of the family for the minute the kids gave it a name (Rolly if you can believe it) the ball was here to stay.

What I couldn’t figure out was if it was a boy or a girl and if bowling balls breed like rabbits. Just to be safe, I figured we’d get it fixed.

7 comments:
Anonymous said...
I really enjoyed reading this post, just like always. You tell a great story. You always make me chuckle.Walley Gator
Sunday, March 25, 2007 11:21:00 PM EDT
Peter said...
Hi Doug, those bowling balls are cute little suckers aren't they, got a way of worming their way under your guard.
Monday, March 26, 2007 3:28:00 AM EDT
cmk said...
My girls collected rocks and the youngest wouldn't EVER let me throw away any scrap of paper she had written on--never mind the fact she DIDN'T know how to write at the time! I was so very lucky to have to only deal with scraps of paper and rocks--NO bowling balls anywhere to be seen. Funny, funny post.
Monday, March 26, 2007 3:03:00 PM EDT
Rachel said...
My great neice is into the rock collecting thing. Hopefully she'll get over it soon, or at least learn that she doesn't have to have EVERY rock she sees.Bowling balls do look like they have little faces! I like the name you gave it!!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007 11:45:00 PM EDT
mischief said...
I never grew out of collecting rubbish and now I try to keep it to collecting airline sickbags and totally random HUGE posters discarded by perfume shops. My flatmates are going to disown me soon. A great blog Doug!mischief
Wednesday, March 28, 2007 8:52:00 PM EDT
Elise said...
Funny! I enjoyed this.
Thursday, March 29, 2007 1:33:00 AM EDT
4evergapeach said...
It's great to be back. I've really missed your posts. I need to catch up.One question though...How do you "fix" a bowling ball? LOL
Saturday, March 31, 2007 7:19:00 AM EDT