Make My Day

There are times when my daughter cracks me up. Often, these times are when she isn't trying to be funny. Which makes me laugh even more. I know as a supportive parent, I should try to keep my laughter in check a times, but the other day it was impossible. And honestly? I needed a good laugh. So her golf conversation really made my day.

Yes, her "golf conversation."

You see, a few months ago my father called Lexie up. "I've signed you up for golf lessons," he informed her. "You start on June 11 at the driving range right behind the house."

"Ummmmmm..." (that would be Lexie.)

"Now don't worry, I'm going to get you a set of used clubs. They won't be the best, of course, but as you improve maybe I'll get you a better set."

"Ummmmmm..."

"So I'll bring those by when I get them, and I'll drop off the information on the lessons, too. All right, talk to you later!"

Now, Lexie isn't a golfer. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall the first time we took her miniature golfing when she was like four. She grabbed the club like a baseball bat and almost took out me and her grandpa. But apparently since his grandson is only 16 months old, he decided that Lexie would be his golf protege. And didn't really give her the opportunity to say no.

Sine I have raised my daughter well, she sucked it up and acted excited for her grandpa's sake. But she told anyone who would listen, "I really don't want to play golf, but since grandpa wants me to so bad..."

In any case, as the day drew near, my dad got more and more excited, and Lexie got more and more apprehensive. Finally, the day arrived. I left for work, and told her I would call her at 9:10 to make sure she was leaving. When I called, she actually sounded a little excited. Maybe this golf thing isn't such a bad idea, I thought to myself. I mean, I've never golfed in my life, but Lord knows it's a good networking tool and hell, maybe she's got a little Tiger in her, who knows, right?

So I'm sitting at work, watching the clock, and at about 10:10 my phone rings. It was my little golf pro - but wait - what's this? She sounded all out of breath...

"Whoever said golf was EASY and RELAXING is a LIAR!" she spat into the phone.

There. That is exactly where my giggles started. But I tried to keep them in check as I responded sweetly, "Why, baby? How was it? Did you have fun?"

What came next was a tirade that left me gasping for breath with tears in my eyes.

"WELL," she began, "it is hard. And these clubs are heavy! And every time the instructor came by, I would miss the ball. And he would tell me to FOCUS. And I WAS FOCUSING!! And a third grader hit the ball 175 feet, and the farthest I hit the ball was 95 feet. And I think I burned off 20 million calories, AND I am sweating off ALL of my sunscreen!" her tween indignation burned through the phone line.

I tried to regain my composure and tell her, "Well, honey, it was your first lesson. I'm sure you'll get better."

"It's not funny," she said, with a trace of laughter in her own voice. "Maybe I'll sign you up for golf lessons and see how you like it!"

"Well, now, see, I have to work, so I really don't have time," I demurred, still wiping at the tears in my eyes.

She didn't even seem to hear me. "AND? I don't think my fingers will ever straighten out again."

"Why?" I mananged to say while still laughing.

"From gripping the club so hard!" she said in exasperation.

"But honey, are you supposed to grip it that hard?" I asked innocently.

"NO!" she responded with frustration. "But if I don't, I'm gonna throw the stupid club! And stop laughing!!!"

I ended my conversation with the young Tigress by telling her to go home, drink some water, relax and call me later. Which she did, and after some relaxing? I think she actually kind of liked the golfing.

Or to put it in her own words, " I really like hitting things, only not when people are watching me."

I'm hoping by "things" she only meant golf balls...

Yesterday went a little better, although she does have a blister. I promised her a golf glove. Haven't heard from her today yet. But that first day? That conversation will keep me chuckling every time I replay it in my head. God, I love my daughter!

***

And since you are such loyal readers, I will leave you with a few pictures:

Here is Ginger, the cute little puppy who was supposed to be only 30 pounds. She is now 16 1/2 pounds, and not quite four months old. According to the nice attorney in my office, "Looks like you are going to have the World's Largest Sheltie." Not funny.

And? Drumroll, please... my favorite godson and the pro golfer extrordinaire. TOO CUTE, RIGHT?? All right, folks, dasi, OUT!!