Back when I could almost get away with anything, if it was pointing out and yelling “cigarette” at the top of my lungs directed towards a startled, innocent lady aside from our old Honda Odyssey, or carrying around a $3.99 Giant Eagle red ball around as if it was a baby. Either way, I was only seven, and kids in my relative age group were labeled as cute despite their ignorance and being disobedient rascals. On a typical brisk January afternoon, the year of the economic recession, my mom and I went to the grocery store as nothing out of the ordinary from our daily routine, until my eyes were glued upon a mounting stack of diverse colored Little Tikes balls that laid ahead. There was one that stuck out from the rest, enabling me to tug at my…show more content… As you might assume, the red ball found its way to Stow Kent Lanes. We were mid-way through the first game when I had the perplexed idea of throwing the red ball down the lane, thinking it would boost my chances of getting a strike. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Sure enough, the ball found its way towards the gutter, not coming close to hitting the pins.Consequently, the ball got stuck in the return system for it being comparably different in size and composition to the standard bowling ball. As I heard the roars of laughter erupting from my mom and her friend, I was concerned and puzzled from the disappearance of my loyal companion. My ignorance caused a ruckus, forcing the workers to rip off the entire floor board and close half the lanes to recover a cheaply marked grocery store ball. Although it was amusing to my mom, the agony of the possibility of not grasping it in my right arm settled in. Inevitably, they could get it out that day, but sure enough, my dog Chloe found her way and tore it apart weeks later. Surprisingly enough, I began to distance myself away from the inhuman object and wasn’t distraught when coming across the scattered pieces of my childhood lying flat on the new
