He had other ideas, though. First of all, we'd have to pay someone else. Second of all, we'd have to pay someone else.
We had a set of clubs that Sullen Teenager had used when she was taking golf lessons, so at least we didn't have to go buy new equipment. (Hubby plays left-handed, inexplicably, so I couldn't use any of the bazillion clubs he already owns.)
I had enormous reservations about allowing Hubby to instruct me in the ways of playing golf. I balanced those against having a perfect stranger guffaw at my attempts, though, and I agreed to let Hubby give me lessons. I figured he would probably be standing within striking distance, and I would have a golf club in my hand. I would swear it was an accident. Me being a novice and all.
The lessons went much better than I would have predicted. Hubby didn't give me too much grief, and I didn't take his criticisms personally. I tried to use his instruction to make my swing better and hit the ball farther, and I think I accomplished that. To some degree. Can I do it again tomorrow? Ummm..... maybe.
Golf is not without its own perils. Hubby doesn't wear a golf glove, and there wasn't one in the golf bag that Sullen Teenager had used. To be honest, I didn't think anything about it. After hitting only half a bucket of balls, however, this happened to my thumb. I apologize for the blurriness of the picture. It was hard for me to take a picture of my own thumb, and Hubby didn't really see the point. He's not very blog-savvy.
I think I might be willing to take the game up, but it's never going to be my first choice of free-time activities. Not as long as I'm physically able to ride my bike. And play Mario Brothers.
Ouchie! You might have some trouble playing Mario with that on your thumb!
ReplyDeleteEww! I hate blisters!
ReplyDeleteI do NOT like having my husband as an instructor.
-Kelly