Aaron "Twinkletoes" Rice

This July means Aaron and I would have been together for one year shy of a decade. After nine years of being boyfriend/girlfriend, fiances, or husband/wife, I feel like I know the man pretty well. Actually, I know him better than anybody in this world does. I can finish his sentences, see his rants and raves coming from a mile away, tell his childhood stories, interpret his moods, and be there for him better than anybody else. Its been a while since I have been able to say, "I didn't know that about you." Until this weekend. 

Aaron and I have been snowboarding, kayaking, hiking, cycling, whitewater rafting, dog sledding, and so many more crazy awesome activities that I can't think of right now. But we've only been bowling together once, and that was nine years ago when we were 16 years old, on our second date I believe. For some reason the opportunity hasn't presented itself again. So there was no way I could have known that this past Friday night would be one of the most insanely hilarious, about to pee in my pants, tears rolling down my face from laughing so hard kind of evening. Just when I thought nothing Aaron could do would ever surprise me again, I watched him throw a bowling ball, and my eyes were opened to the many things I might not know about this man I married almost five years ago. 

Aaron suggested we go bowling because our electricity was out all night and it would be cheap entertainment. But friends, let me just tell you now, it was very rich entertainment. For me. Unfortunately, I can't prove anything I am about to describe because I didn't have my camera or phone on me to document this hysterical event, but trust me, I couldn't make this up. I will try my best to capture this moment via words, but it won't do Aaron justice. 

The title of this post is probably the most accurate way to describe Aaron Rice, the bowler. Please try to visualize Aaron, the manly Marine who lost a leg in combat and beats his chest over his own manliness, as a ballerina. If you can do this, then you have seen Aaron Rice, the bowler, sans the tutu. We geared up in our bowling shoes, carefully chose our bowling balls, and entered our name into the screen that keeps score. Aaron was first. He studied the arrows on the lane and did mathematical equations in his head to ensure the angle and speed of his throw would be perfect. This seemed normal to me at this point. He walked over to the chairs where I was sitting, with bowling ball in hand, and I thought he was coming over to speak to me. But he did not want to speak to me. He was simply taking his position. I was sitting in the chairs in the back of the room, at least 10 yards from where the bowling ball spitter outer thing was. Aaron had his fingers in the bowling ball holes, and just started sprinting full speed toward the lane. I started freaking out and wondering why the heck he is RUNNING full speed with a 13 pound bowling ball. And then about 7 feet before he reached the lane, he started tippy-toeing, still at a very quick pace, and right before he released the ball, he did a graceful ballerina leap, and LAUNCHED the ball down the lane. And by launch, I mean throw the ball at the same speed a professional baseball player throws a baseball. Sometimes he would launch the ball straight into a gutter. Other times he would launch it down the middle of the lane and get a strike, But nothing in between. It was gutter, strike, or nothing. 

I can't even begin to describe how big my eyes got after watching Aaron do his sprint, twinkletoe, ballerina leap routine for the first time. After I realized he was not joking, the biggest wave of uncontrollable laughter I have ever experienced overwhelmed me and I ended up on the floor convulsing. I was crying tears of embarrassment and laughter, and Aaron was looking at me wondering what was so funny. It wasn't until I reenacted what he was doing that made him realize he was not a typical bowler. But he continued to sprint, twinkle toe, and ballerina leap for four games straight, and by the last game, he was exhausted. His shirt was sopping wet and beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead, and he was actually out of breath. He probably accumulated half a mile of running throughout the evening. I would be tired too. He ended up winning the first two games because I was laughing so hard and couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to actually aim the ball. And then I won the last two because Aaron had worn himself out so much that his energy level started diminishing. 

Something drastic must have changed in Aaron's bowling technique from the time he was 16 to 25 years old. Because if I would have seen him bowl like that on a second date, I can't promise you I would have gone back for a third. But I laughed for a solid two hours on Friday night. My abs are still sore and it is Sunday. Next time we have company, I already know what we are doing. I am going to let Aaron provide the entertainment. This is not something you want to miss, people. Believe me. When we got in the car to go home, I looked at Aaron and said for the first time in a really long time, "Wow, I definitely didn't know that about you." I wonder what else I don't know. Maybe we should go roller skating.