Monday, August 10, 2009

Looks like the Jr. PGA is a pipe dream...

Saturday was interesting.
Yes, interesting indeed....

Someone *cough*P*cough* decided that it might be fun to play mini-golf together as a family at one of those big Fun Centers. You know the place - they are all essentially the same.

Mini golf course peppered with algae infested 'rivers' and fountains? Check.
Money-sucking, ticket-stingy games? Check.
A few rides (aka: death traps) out back mostly hidden by weeds? Check.
Crappy pizza that costs nearly the same as a gourmet meal? Check.

The stuff dreams are made of, no?

Don't get me wrong... I actually enjoy a good game of mini-golf, it can be quite fun. But this was one situation that simply was NOT going to work out well, a point that I tried to stress as much as possible before capitulating and setting off for a 'fun' afternoon. You see, there were numerous factors working against us that prompted me to energetically campaign against this particular plan.

We had:
** A 3 year old and a 5 year old, both with NO concept of why one would want to hit a tiny ball into a hole for fun.

** A 3 year old who behaves like the spawn of Satan himself when she is hungry or it gets too close to her naptime. (She eats at 11, sleeps at 1pm. We left the house at 10:30 with no plans to eat until after a rousing game of putt-putt).

** A 5 year-old obsessed with putting tokens in money slots with little concept of the purpose of 95% of the games she is feeding.

** A barely toilet-trained 3 year-old who insists on wearing panties everywhere.

** 95 degree heat.

To say it went poorly would be an understatement. Lets just say that we left the 'Fun Center' after roughly 45 minutes in which time we had been relieved of at least $40, played exactly three holes of mini-golf, listened to relentless complaining about the heat, lost a three year-old, had a potty 'accident', and had a handful of tickets that purchased 4 complete pieces of junk (2 of which were broken by the end of the day). Then we had to listen to whining, fighting, and complaining all the way to the German restaurant where we lunched (that's not to say it stopped when we got there. Ohhhh no).

Sounds fun, no?

Moral of the story? Anyone?
LISTEN TO YOUR WIFE.

The End.

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