We took the kids to a charity bowling event yesterday supported by the NBA. Usually I'm a horrible bowler. But yesterday I was on a hot streak. I bowled two strikes and a spare early on.
The attractive black man in the lane next to ours was impressed. "Shoot! I'm gonna have you throw my ball for me!" he said.
I laughed. "Nah...you don't want me! This is the best I've ever bowled!" I admitted.
He didn't believe me. "Are you a hustler?" he teased.
"Sshhh!!! Don't tell!" I joked back and winked at him.
A little while later, Gabe said to me, "Mommy! I can't believe I got to bowl with Chris Paul today!"
"Who's Chris Paul?" I asked.
"MOMMY!!" he addressed me with frustration. "How can you not know who Chris Paul is?!"
"I don't know." I shrugged my shoulders. "Who is he?" I asked.
"He's practically the best player in the entire NBA!" he professed with excitement.
"Good for you, buddy! Did you talk to him?" I asked.
"Oh my gosh, Mommy!" Gabe giggled and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I talked to him! And so did you!" he focused on my ignorance.
"I did?" I asked. "Who was he?"
"Mommy! He was the guy that asked you to bowl for him!" he pointed out.
"Oh! Really?" I asked.
"Yes!" Gabe shook his head in defeat.
"Well, then it's a good thing I was bowling strikes today!" I said with exaggerated relief.
"Mommy...You don't even care that it was Chris Paul?" he asked me.
"Honey, I don't even know who Chris Paul is. But I do know that the guy that bowled beside us today was nice and happy to be here. And for those reasons: I like him," I told him honestly.
"So when he's on TV blowing up the court, you're going to cheer for him because he's 'nice and happy?'" Gabe challenged with macho sarcasm.
"Well, that and the fact that he thinks I'm cool," I nudged him playfully.
Gabe sighed. He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with his dorky old mom.
"Well," he confessed, "I guess that's a good reason to cheer, too."