Sandbox etiquette

I'm a wizard at candlepin bowling - who knew? Last night after I made Boyfriend my specialty chicken parm and we threw back a few glasses of wine, we decided to go bowling. At first, I totally sucked. Like nothing but gutter balls. So of course I got frustrated, while BF insisted that it's the idea of having fun that's important, not your final score. Yeah. Right. Only losers say that! Or boyfriends of losers, trying to appease their uncoordinated, spastic girlfriends. I can't help it - I'm a competitive person. While BF cheered me on in my suckage, I pouted and stamped my fancy bowling shoes. He bowled well (shocker), but it was really hard for me to get excited. I mean, I could handle him winning the game. But I wasn't even in the game!

We decided to play a second game, because I just couldn't let it lie. Then something bizarre happened! I got wicked hot! It was crazy. A total turnaround. With no apparent explanation as to what accounted for my late bloomer bowling prowess, I became an inspirational underdog story. And BF, in typical BF fashion, was thrilled with my success - he was completely encouraging even as I trounced him. Why? Because he's not a sore loser.

I think it took seeing someone lose like a normal person for me to realize that I'm a horrible loser. I might work on that a little. Because of course BF let it slide, and just seemed happy that I was having the time of my life at Sacco's Bowl Haven once my spasticity passed. But other people might not be so forgiving. No one likes to play with a bad loser - we all learned that on the elementary school playground. Well, apparently most of us learned that on the elementary school playground. Others of us learned it last night.

It always did take me a while to catch on to new concepts.