I will keep this brief, but hopefully entertaining.
Friday, as most of you read/know/saw was our FIFTH wedding anniversary. Talk about crazy.
We enjoyed a FANTASTIC dinner (Encore, for those of you in the B-Lo) of banana peppers, steak and a couple of raspberry cosmos/Guinness.
As this years gift was to be wood or silverware (thanks to whoever comes up with this confusing stuff), I purchased three juniper bushes (henceforth referred to as “Anniversary Trees”) to replace Stupid Bushes.
“Oh. Look. You got me work.”, he says.
Every year we play in a three-club golf tournament”*. This year, we he decided that we should car pool with his parents.
They were due to arrive at 9:30am. At 9:00, we were picking up the house and vacuuming. At 9:15, there is a knock at the door and MIL is there.
“Hey!”, I greet her as I am dashing between rooms.
Dashing back, she’s still outside. “You CAN come in…”
“Oh. Whatcha guys doing?” Steve CLEARLY has the vacuum running and I am CLEARLY putting things in the dishwasher.
I know it will be a long day.
FIL eats very slow, so we opt to go to Tim Hortons for breakfast and coffee. It is in the parking lot that FIL announces that he does not eat and drive. I tell Steve that we should probably get the food to go, he can drive and his dad can eat while we’re en route. Steve insists it will be fine.
FAMOUS LAST WORDS.
At the counter, Steve and I place our order, which clearly confused the cashier. We step aside, and in interest of moving things along, Steve asks his dad if he’s ready to order. FIL looks at Steve and tells him his order. I suggest, “Um, you should probably tell the guy behind the counter what you want as he’s the one who takes your order.”
Meanwhile, Steve and I notice our next door neighbors sitting and enjoying a coffee so we walk over and say hello. Five minutes later, the in-laws are still at the counter. Less to say, it’s physically impossible for the employees to make a large coffee with one cream and one sugar.
Fifteen minutes later and forty-five minutes until tee off (with a half-hour drive), we’re on our way.
Once on the course, I tee up and get ready to take my first shot.
His parents are talking. About nothing. In their cart. Next to the tee box. With loud voices.
I glare over my sunglasses and bank the shot.
Up the fairway, they’re still yammering away.
On the next hole, they’re discussing why MIL can’t hit the ball. Next to the tee box. With loud voices.
And the trend continues.
Finally, at the third hole, I ask Steve if it’s bad form to beat people with your club for talking while you’re trying to hit the ball. Also, we should purchase a golf etiquette book for them for Christmas.
At the fourth hole, he finally tells them to be quiet.
And my game was much improved.
As usual, I won closest to the pin, By Default.
*Each player is only allowed three clubs; putters count towards the three. “Tournament” because it’s really just for fun and the prizes are fun.