What better thing to do on a rainy day in Mt. P than go golfing with the in-laws. This is Pleasant Hills, comparable to St. Andrews and Pebble Beach for you golfers. SO here's a breif summar of what happened in poem form:
The first hole there was rain
Nice shots off the tee
Except Ja, who landed on hole three
Steady for about 4 holes
until dreaded number 5
where my score took a serious dive
Dad Stelter on in two (every stinkin time)
Laughing at me and Ja
enjoying his sons on this rainy day
Stupid Freakin soybean fields
kept taking my generic ball
Ti-Tech ball seriously bad call
Thought It was all good
Hole 13 Drove it a mile
until the wedge hit it a mile
Hole 14 spun out in cart
Uh Oh, ranger saw me
Gave a good apology
Hole 18 was for doozies
Ja went soy beans twice
On in 4 I took a twirl
Enjoyed a twix arxtic swirl.
All was well here in Mt. P . The patriotic spirit was out for a bit. We lit sum fireworks off and McKenna kept signing "all done" because she hated them. They made her cry.
Hope all is well
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1 comment:
Steve,
Your gift for rhyme and verse is evident. Stoke that fire. As for your golf game...that has been the one gifts not given to a Lampi thus far. So put a club in the hands of that nephew of yours ala Eldrick Woods at age 3. There's still hope!
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