Yours truly here was fashionably late (by nearly 2 hours) and Zainab already paid me for a game of bowling. I didn't get to say no.
Did I mention I never bowled before?
Visual proof I ever bowl.
The other three played the polite damsels while me and Zainab braved the lanes. We exchanged tazkirah, caught up with the latest hips and pried into Faizah's marriage life.
Obviously Zainab had the upper hands in the game. She managed plenty of strikes to boast to her future generations while I managed a fractured radius to cry to my daddy.
Someone was glowing. I admit to my loss.
Or so I pitifully exaggerated. Dad said it was a mere tendon strained.
The gathering was nice. We meet again, I pray.
I learned the hard way that you MUST warm up before you play any games, and wrist is not to be exempted. Also to have a first aid at home. (Ironically, we have a doctor, a nurse, a dental student and a medical student in this household.)
In the mean time, I need to wrap my right wrist with any scraps I can scrounge up. And fighto for these last days of Ramadhan, pray Allah give us another in the years to come.
H2A: Remorse.
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