Yesterday, I had this brilliant idea of taking Myles to the batting cages. I had found a place with batting cages, putt-putt, and a rock wall. Then, to seal our fate, today at work, I found some coupons for this place and we were off to bat and do whatever else struck our fancy. Once we arrived, we discovered that we should have brought our own batting helmet and bat. Thank goodness Myles brought his batting gloves, or we may have just driven for nearly an hour only to have to turn back. Once Myles got a look at the helmets, he lost all enthusiasm. Hey, I can completely understand. When you are doing what you love, you want to look cool. But, I forced him to make the best of it. So, into the batting cage he begrudgingly went sporting a crappy batting helmet and wielding a crappy bat. Then during the first batting session, B made the mistake of critiquing every swing Myles took. So, since Myles doesn't take criticism well, he was no longer interested in batting after the use of our first token (first of 15 tokens). Crap. So, in an effort to improve the moods, I suggest that we do a round of putt-putt and then come back to the cages. "I guess," was the enthusiastic response I got.
I made the mistake of letting Savannah go first at the first 3 holes, which made Myles mad. Then, Savannah was getting the ball into the hole in fewer strokes than Myles, so that also worked against my efforts at improving his mood. After pounding his club against the ground and after hitting his golf ball so hard that 3 strangers nearly lost an eye, I forced him to sit out the next two holes.
Then, something in the universe shifted. Suddenly, the game became "Who can get the ball in the hole faster". In this game, there are no turns and no fouls. And everyone thinks this is fun.
So, for about 4 holes I was able to enjoy the kids having fun together. Of course, by this time, B had had enough of this place and was growing increasingly grouchy. (Can't please 'em all) Once we had reached the 7th hole we discovered that the water in this place smelled terrible and there were gnats everywhere. That must have been one of the challenges of the course because there seemed to be a cloud of gnats at the start of each hole. I could hardly see through all of the gnats. Then, Savannah mistakenly stepped in one of the many puddles that were all over the course and soaked her sock and foot. That was the end of her putt-putt pleasantness. Fun was over! Here is the problem puddle pictured next to Myles. (He, of course, thought Savannah's misfortune was the height of hilarity. That only worsened the situation). So, Savannah walked off, sullenly.
She, then refused to be anywhere within my vision. And, I was forced to keep track of her by peeking through the shrubbery. I tried getting a picture of her grumpy face through a bush, feeling like a member of the paparazzi.
So, once we had reached the end of the 18 holes, Myles had greatly improved his mood. Due mostly to the fact that he won since Savannah had quit early. (We weren't keeping score anyway, but you know sibling rivalry. If you can weasel a victory to hold over the siblings head, all the better)
So, at this point, I have one happy, pseudo-victorious kid, one not happy kid who was refusing to be within 100 yards of us, and one grumpy B lingering in our shadows. "So, who's ready to try the batting cages again?" I chirped. B perked up, Myles said yes, and Savannah was clear on the other side of the course and was pretending she couldn't hear me. We eventually made it over to the batting cages and everyone, but me (embarassment was not going to be served up to me this pleasant afternoon), did some batting. They had fun, but pooped out quite quickly. Those balls come so rapidly!
Days tally:
Number of happy golfers: 1
Number of wet, soggy feet: 2
Number of gnats inhaled by me: 237
Number of angry sisters: 1
Number of balls hit: 121
Number of tears shed: 1,000,001
Number of days I will need to recover from my afternoon of putt-putting: I'll let you know
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