For me, every day moments usually include peddling snacks like a human vending machine; schlepping picture books in case boredom ever strikes; and crouching in public toilets to wipe a three-year-old’s butt. This past weekend, however, thanks to an American Express event at Brooklyn Bowl about EveryDay Moments, my humdrum Saturday got awesome.
First of all, anywhere with a red carpet and velvet ropes is tantamount to Buckingham palace as far as my daughter is concerned. “How do we get in?” Trixie asked, her eyes widening. “What do you think is going on in there?!”
“Let’s find out!” I said, and as soon as we entered Williamsburg’s funky, saloon-style bowling alley, the fun began. Wristbands: check. Bowling shoes: check. Raffle ticket: check (Okay, so we won an umbrella … but Trixie got to spin the prize wheel, and that was a thrill).
The two of us wandered over to our very own bowling lane and on her FIRST turn Trixie got a strike! My daughter, the bowling prodigy! Well, further evidence would prove otherwise, but we still had a blast on the darkened lanes, surrounded by ecstatic kids, and adults with ice cold margaritas.
Bowling quickly lost it’s allure when the TriBeCa Film Festival-sponsored movie began to play on every screen in Brooklyn Bowl (of which, I now know, there are many). Kickin’ off our bowling shoes, Trixie and I meandered over to the overstuffed beanbags to watch Moon Man, an imaginative, colorful and trippy animated flick about the man in the moon getting bored at his post and hitching a ride to Earth on a passing comet. I snuck off to the buffet to load up on chicken wings, mac n’ cheese, and hummus, but when I got back, Trixie was riveted (though she didn’t actually understand the plot, and would not respond to my questions for love nor money).
To be honest, before we got there it had been a rough, naughty-girl morning, and I wasn’t at all surprised when The Meltdown began. In fact, if we hadn’t had such a unique event to attend, Trixie probably would have been given bread and water and a lump of coal for dinner. However, when given the choice between stubborn tantrums at home or free food and bowling, it wasn’t a tough decision to make. So, as the frown deepened and my daughter’s body became more and more spaghetti-like as I tried to move her from the beanbags to the crayon/drawing station, I knew I was pushing my luck by staying another second.
As I struggled to contain my flailing child and whisk her out of the building before we could cause a scene, a perky, badge-wearing brunette came over to say hi and make sure we were enjoying ourselves.
“We wanted it to be a memorable, family-friendly event, you know? Easygoing. Just like childhood. Pizza, mac n’ cheese–it’s just so fun, you know?”
“Fun. Totally,” I grunted, gripping Trixie’s windmill arms with all my strength.
“Aw, your daughter is so cute!”
At that exact moment, Trixie slammed my body hard against a table full of crayons.
“Oh my!” the woman said, jolting back.
Humiliated, I pulled myself upright and tucked Trixie, kicking and screaming, under my arm. “Just another every day moment,” I said, and made a beeline for the coat check.
