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I watch as a girl with braces sets down a tower of pizza boxes at lanes 18 and 20. I shift my eyes to Charlie, who has just launched a bowling ball overhand onto the wood floor baseball style, scaring the children in the neighboring lanes. I watch him manipulate the air like a mime; steering the ball off the bumpers to the left then to the right before pumping his fist in victory.

"I got eight!" he yells excitedly from about 15 feet away.

I look over at the pizza again as the other kids start to filter in around the table. I look at Charlie. Charlie looks at the pizza. Charlie looks at me. I look at him. Like a dog at the dinner table, Charlie takes one more look at the kids munching on the pizza. (READ MORE)