The Beans! O, How They Swing!

Sexy Husband braved the thrifty hordes and visited Goodwill on a 50% off Saturday. He dodged and dipped and ducked and dodged (tehe) the mercilessly relentless conflux of beady-eyed shoppers and emerged triumphant, two golf clubs and a glass tray for the microwave later, all for under five bucks. (It seems my erudite knowledge of all things second hand has been rubbing off and the good fellow.)

And with two kids in tow, no less.

What can I say? He is a man of many talents, none of which happen to be golfing, but(!) he is hoping to remedy that now that he has two golf clubs. I say: hurrah, hurrah, my good man! Hit those balls and make a 'field goal' and/or 'score' and/or insert appropriate golf-related jargon here.

I came home to a yard replete with balls and children, garnished by one tanned Man whacking the golf balls all around the yard. An occasional dub made its way to the cemetery across the road (may they rest in peace); I won't tell if you won't.

My husband is a good man; there is none more steadfast, trustworthy, or loyal.

Also, the last time he played golf with his buddies it involved him falling out of a golf cart; no details will be provided here.

So I hope you have fun, dearest One; my all your balls do the birdie hole-in-one thingy, or whatever.

Love,

t.