I love going to the capital because there are more options for family activities besides board games, watching movies or finger painting.  One of our favourite things to do is to go bowling.  Charlie is starting to get the hang of it, even attempting to throw the ball with one arm rather than utilizing the two-hands-swinging-between-the-legs maneuver.  Lola loves to inventory the colour of each ball, and climb like a monkey along the railing between the bowling area and the pool tables.  My good-at-everything-except-making-scrambled-eggs husband, of course, dominates every time, but I think that I should be getting some extra points just for the fact that I have to bowl in the hijab.  There are some tricky maneuvers that I have to master in order to get my running start without tripping, while at the same time still focusing on the pins at the end of the lane, even when my scarf obscures my view.  But one thing remains the same, the defeat.  It doesn’t matter if my hair is flowing free or not, the ball inevitably goes where ever it pleases rather than obeying my desire.