Bowling in Granby

. . . or Why Daddy Won’t Be Teaching Fiona How To Bowl . . .

Yes, I know the video says ‘Cowansville’ . . . I have no idea how that could have happened . . . nomads are never confused about where they are, or where they’ve been, or where they’re going . . .


  1. Yeah, it was fun up until we looked down and she was laying on the floor crying. I usually try not to smack her into the floor quite that hard. Or at all.

  2. Joel, your instincts were sound when you were trying to catapult Fiona all the way to the pins, but you needed to instruct her first to hang on to the ball, so that she would develop proper momentum. Or you could have strapped it to her arms. I think with a little practice she could be molded into a fine weapon.

  3. The youngster seems resistant to flingage; some blather about her belly rubbing on the floor as she slid. It was highly polished wood, with barely a possibility of splinters.

    Kids these days, I ask you.

    I’m considering showing up in my union suit and just charging the pins meself.

Leave a Reply