It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to
Yesterday was my birthday, and I can cry if I want to.
Here?s why I want to: My husband and I cleared our schedules and got a babysitter so we could celebrate the big 3-6 properly with a round of golf. Things were going just great?I was two over through six?when disaster struck.
It came when my husband put his ball into a bunker. After hitting a fine shot out of the bunker and onto the green, he attempted to rake. Grasping the implement firmly by his right, ungloved hand, he looked down to discover that his palm now bore a strong resemblance to a prickly pear.
The rake in question, manufactured of a mysterious fiberglass substance, was apparently degrading and shedding fiberglass splinters?literally hundreds of them?right into my husband?s hand. There would be no more golf for my husband that day I can tell you.
Back at the pro shop, we explained the situation and recommended that the offending rake be severely punished. The young man behind the counter seemed highly unconcerned. ?They?re unbreakable,? he shrugged.
It was golfus interruptus.
And here?s the other reason I want to cry.
I ran into Clinton once at a toy store. I was there with my daughter. He was scoping chicks. No, just kidding. I hope.
|« Top Ten Things You Won't Hear at a Fantasy Football Draft||It's an upside-down leaderboard at the Weetabix Women's British Open »|
This is perfect. You've warmed my heart as usual. Tell me you're left-handed too and I'd even give Kiel, our liberal loony college prof, a hug.
P.S. How's the book doing?
I am left-handed!
Most of the bunkers on the publinks courses I play at have real sand in them somewhere, you just have to dig deep under the rocks to find it!
I rarely use rakes because I rarely hit into bunkers. Hope your husband feels better...