佚名/Anonymous
My husband, Roy, had always wanted to play golf.
I had heard the horrid Golf Widow stories and never encouraged the game.After quite a few years of marriage and raising three children, we were informed by our twin sons, Brad and Chad, now young adults, that they were taking up the sport of golf.Needless to say, they wanted their Dad to play with them.They begged and pleaded, but he had lost interest several years earlier.
Our sons surprised Roy with a set of golf clubs one Father’s Day.During our vacation that year, the three of them played a round of golf.Since he had so much fun, he wanted to share the experience with me.
“Let’s go to the golf course,”he begged one Saturday afternoon.
“Why on earth would I want to play golf?”I asked.
“You can drive the cart,”he replied.“Please.”I saw a pitiful look on his face—just like a little boy with no money in a candy store.
My first thought was,“Sure I can, but I could also drive my car to the mall.It would be cooler and a lot more fun.”I looked back at his sad face and finally agreed to go.
“Now how long will this take?”I asked, with a twinge of resentments in my voice.
“We will only play nine holes,”he said.He whistled as he got his equipment together.We headed for the green grass of the golf course.
I moaned as I got out of the car and sat down in the driver’s seat of a little white golf cart.This was not my idea of a good time.Before I started up the engine, Roy started trying to teach me the rules of the road.
“What rules?”I shouted, as I took off driving full speed.
“Slow down,”he begged.I laughed and kept driving.“You can only drive in designated spots,”he sternly informed me.
“And who is going to stop me?”I joked.I was already feeling rebellious.
When we reached the tee box at hole number one, he was shaking his head.It was clear that he was relieved to get off the speeding golf cart.He set up for his first swing while I watched, wondering why people think golf is so much fun.It looked mighty boring to me.