I haven't played golf this year and I find that to be just tragic. So Saturday morning Amanda and I were up and ready to go. We cooked pancakes and got dressed in proper golf attire. Amanda in green Capri shorts and green striped shirt. I went for that dapper black slacks and light blue shirt with black piping and matching black hat. We looked the part. Then we warmed up on the Wii with Tiger Woods before heading out. I set Amanda's player on easy and as usual she cleaned my clock because I give her mulligans and putt for her. Straight up I think I can take her.
We drove out to the club and unloaded Amanda's small bag with a wood, a 6 iron and a putter. I gave her a sleeve of balls and she was ready. I had my clubs brought out of storage and put on a cart along side Amanda's. We then went to the clubhouse for lunch. Her order was grilled cheese and since it was Saturday I treated myself to some cheeseburger sliders. We ate our meal and visited about her up and coming softball season. Which mostly was her saying the name, "Dalton" over and over again.
Dalton is the teenage son of a coworker who Amanda always wishes good luck to before he plays baseball. According to his mother this last time Amanda did that he hit three homeruns in two games. He asked if he could help Amanda play on her softball team this year and now she is in love with with him. She tends to focus on individuals rather intensely and that is actually OK with Tina and I. It gives us a little control, not much, but at least a little.
It warmed up while we were having lunch and we headed to the driving range. Amanda took her jacket off and said, "Pretty day, don't need jacket." Her sentences are getting longer and I'm remembering every one. The range was empty as most of the players were on the course with the large Saturday group. I gave Amanda about 20 balls and she started shoving them forward. Occasionally she would hit one a little more pure and scream with delight.
Like I said, I hadn't played in four months. The first thing I had to do was wipe all the dust from my clubs. The skills came back rather quickly, but not the touch.
When Amanda plays golf with me she doesn't tee off. She hits from the area of my tee shot and on the first hole she advanced her ball almost 30 yards. I gave her a "Yeah Amanda." When we get to the green she places her ball a couple of inches in front of the hole and taps it in and yells, "BAWDIE!" She is very enthusiastic which is part of her charm. She has picked up a new trash talk too, "Not on your best day." I taught her that one.
We played nine holes. She got a little tired and stayed in the cart for about 3 of the holes. Afterward we went to the clubhouse and split a piece of chocolate cake. We both love chocolate cake. We agree that white cake might as well be broccoli. In hindsight we should have held off on the cake. On the drive home she had an accident that involved me dawning latex gloves. But, compared to what happened at Chick-Fillet three years ago, this was nothing. It was less than ten minutes to clean her up and we were back in business for the rest of the day.
As for the Chick-Fillet incident: NEVER sit at the first both next to the side entrance. I can't believe the building wasn't razed after watch happened there. It was the first time I ever left my body and went to my happy place to get through an event.
She slept hard Saturday night and a little later than usual on Sunday morning. It was a nice 24 hours. And really that is what a person wants when they are taking it one day at a time.
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