Dad finally has his golf clubs. Now he likes to show them to me and take a practice swing in the living room now and then when Mom isn't looking. He keeps talking to me about when I will be old enough to golf. He pointed out that Jeremy has his own clubs already. "Maybe Mom can find you some at a garage sale?"
There is just one problem. I HATE grass. I am not sure why people would go anywhere near it. And Dad insists on making me sit on it. Mom is sympathetic but I know she thinks I'm weird. But I can't help it. It's prickly. So, no, I don't want to golf, thank you.
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