Miniature Golf Magic
This past month (the Month of Lauren) I was treated to an impromptu miniature golf game with an impressive father and son duo.
It’s been many years since I’ve played that favorite birthday activity from my childhood, so I thought I was going to be put to shame.
It started off with me thinking that the colorful orbs in the machines up front by the golf clubs were big gum balls. I believe I had bubble gum on the brain since the son was chewing it in large quantities.
They were the golf balls. The duo had golf balls in hand, one of which was purple. Wait a second, that’s my color! The dad handed me the purple treasure and picked a new colored ball for himself. PINK!
The dad tried to convince me that I should use the toddler-sized golf club as a subtle attack on my lack of height. If he didn’t do that every time I saw him, I would be really worried. I give him credit for being creative in how he delivers the “message”.
We paused for a moment as I looked confused because I couldn’t find the final hole in the maze of faux green grass. The duo looked at each other completely stunned as they educated me that THAT is the practice green…but I digress.
I held my own. Normally, at some point, I lose focus and get a six but I think I only had one hole where I got flustered. The son loved thwarting his dad by yelling, “Miss!” as he swung. Over and over! Laughter erupted from the son while the dad did his best to ignore the taunting as he became the garbage can for many gum wrappers from his son and the score keeper. That’s a big pocket!
At one point, the ball bounced out of the hole and the son had to deal with that reality. He dropped the club and walked away and put his hands over head and gasped, “Why did that happen? Why?!” One could argue that was a bit of mini- golf karma catching up with him!
The son ended up ahead of me by one stroke and this is with his father not giving him any freebies to which the son answered, “You’re mean”! I was pleased. Not that he called his dad mean, which he isn’t, but that we all had a decent game. It’s much more fun when it’s competitive. It was mini-golf magic.
At the end of the evening, the son (taking the lead from his dad) confidently declared, “You’re so short, you could fit in that bag.” It was our leftovers from dinner. I thanked him for the compliment that he thought I was that diminutive. Then his dad said to his son, “You know, she is taller than you are right now.” Classic. I don’t think he has ever called me tall. Victory is mine!