I had a special day with Scouty today. We went bowling and then we had lunch and went to a movie at the dollar theater.
I have been sick all week. I've been exhausted and achy and longing for my bed. I've been no fun to be around.
I wrapped my scarf around my neck an extra time, put on a pair of extra-comfy maternity leggings that I have not managed to retire, even 18 months since the last time I was pregnant, and we headed out into the world to have fun.
It's winter, isn't it? There are so many things we need. Louisey has been throwing up and daddy had his heart broken by a literary review this morning and I haven't been able to breathe or move all week.
We were just two girls and we loved each other. It was Scouty's first time bowling. I have a weird idea that I'm a really good bowler. I like the aesthetic of a bowling alley. I like the carousels of swirly bowling balls. I like how there's a holy and unspoken rule that you NEVER step onto the lane. I even like the disgusting shoes. It all reminded me of being a kid. Bowling alleys were magic when I was a kid.
So, I feel like I'm a really cool, awesomely good bowler. I feel good stepping up for my turn and raising my ball in front of my face. I have good form. My Pap liked bowling and so do I. I bowled a 117 our first game and a 99 on the second. We were using those little kid bumpers. I don't know why I have such a bowling ego.
We brought a cinnamon roll to the movie theater in a brown paper bag. We watched Happy Feet 2. Have you seen these Happy Feet movies? I'm not sure if they're sort of terrifying and eclectic and make me uncomfortable like how I don't understand the appeal of hip hop music, or if they're epic and insightful and awesome.
Anyway, there was a little shrimp who learned to dance. Another shrimp asked him, "What are you doing?" and he said, "I don't know."
The other shrimp asked him, "Why are you doing it?"
He said, "Maybe it's a momentary release from the existential terror of existing."
And I thought, "YES."
That's it. That is why I do everything I do. All the times people have shaken their heads and shrugged their shoulders and said, "I'll never understand why that girl does what she does."
A momentary release from the existential terror of existence.
Thank you, little shrimp.
Thank you, Scouty B.
Thank you carousel of swirly bowling balls.
I'm kind of in love.