Thursday, March 12, 2009

Golf is dumb. And I'm always right.

Nonmaternal Instinct

Why do men watch golf?

Honestly, why?

On Saturday, my husband, remote in hand, surfed the channels and excitedly landed on golf. G-O-L-F. Which, by the way, is basically fluorescent green grass, fancy houses, and preppy clothes. And that equates to overpriced lawn care, obnoxious square footage, and dorky attire. That's right. I'd much rather watch a sport that results in sweat on the court or blood on the field with fans dressed in baggy jerseys while scarfing down hot dogs. That's my kind of sport!

And golf is so, well, boring. Admit it. It's BORING. Quiet British guy gives the play-by-play which is actually one play - a swing. That's it. No steals or facemasks or shoves or fouls. Nope. Just one swing, an untraceable ball, and a minuscule hole. BORING! 

And absolutely NO yelling. NO screaming. NO cussing. And worst of all, NO clapping. You can delicately pat while watching golf, but don't even think about puttin' on your game face, poundin' your fists together, and knockin' out the guy next to you because you're swinging your arms so wildly. Okay, so in the off chance that Mr. Tighty Whitey (because you know these guys aren't wearing boxers) actually gets the ball in or near the hole, the 'gallery' (whatever that is) does get a bit riled up. But then it's back to hushing, shhshing, and whispering. LAME.

And to prove my point (because I'm always right) this is what happened on Saturday after golf had been on for maybe five minutes:

Yep. Snorin' and all. 

Funny thing is, I didn't mind it one bit. Sure, the honey-do list wasn't getting any shorter, but how can I be upset about something so peaceful? Ahh, God does answer prayers!

So maybe this week's non-maternal post is anything but non-maternal - oh well, I couldn't resist sharing this with you:


Plus, I like proving my point. Just another opportunity for me to say, "Hey, honey, I'm always right. Golf is dumb." 

Oh, and if my son ever asks to play one of those sweat-on-the-court or blood-on-the-field sports, I'll surely say, "no, baby, but you can play golf." Because what mother, in her right mind, would want her baby to get hurt? 




And now it's your turn! Share your not-so-sunny tale of parenthood. Why? Because we could all use a little oops-I-forgot-the-baby-at-home camaraderie.

To participate (today and every Thursday):
  1. Somewhere in your post link to my blog. The easiest way to do this is to add the Blessed Treehouse button or the Non-Maternal Instincts button to your post (copy and paste the html, found in the right sidebar). By adding the button to your post, the link to my blog will automatically be included.
  2. Write your Non-Maternal Instincts post!
  3. Use Mister Linky below to enter your name or your blog's name and a link directly to your Non-Maternal Instincts post.
  4. Check out the other Non-Maternal Instincts posts - you know you want to hear all the horror stories. But just remember, pass judgment and you'll turn to find your own kid doing the unimaginable. You've been warned.
Show me some meme love. It doesn't have to be anything long or fancy - just a simple post dishin' out all the vomit-in-the-hair details. It'll be therapeutic. You can thank me later.



2 comments:

  1. Yep. how many hours of that excitement can you possible stand? Of course, there are the Cialis commercials to break up the monotony.

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  2. Ali, this is the first, and probably only thing that we agree on. Golf is boring! Love you cuz. Jared

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