A whole population of people in Minnesota woke up this morning, looked outside, and said, “Cancel my plans, I must get to the golf course.” It was that kind of day. Golden sun, blue-blue skies, just-right temps. Perfect.
Actually, golfer though I’m not, that’s not far from what I said to myself: “I must get to the golf course. And I must bring six big boys with me.”
Today was R-boy’s birthday party and, after much (painful) consideration, he finally landed on what sounded just right to him.
A golf party.
Good call, R-boy.
To kick things off, we handed out treat bags filled with old (let’s call them retro) drivers and packs of baseball cards. (Golf theme, golf schmeme, said R-boy. I want what I want, and that’s baseball cards.) Again. Good call. Oh, and the clubs cost me $1 each at a thrift store down the street. Score.
Next, we hit the driving range. (And tried relentlessly to hit the ball-picker-upper cart.) After coming to the conclusion that we could do with some more practice before we could call ourselves “professionals”, we should probably decide to have a look at getting the best golf monitors that we can find to help us know our numbers, and what we need to improve on, so we are ready for the next game.
Then we slowed down the swings (ok, not completely) and played about 23 holes of mini golf.
I probably got way too much enjoyment out of watching these these non-golf-shoed feet running around the greens. Every inch of R-boy and his buds just keeps growing so fast-but there’s something about those feet. It’s like they’re a few steps ahead.
I’m not so sure that the scores I was was told to record after each hole always fit the actual number of strokes but, hey, who’s counting? And, yes, there were several confirmed holes in one!
Later, back at R-house, a hungry crew devoured plate after plate of spaghetti. (Thank you, Heather, for coming over to help me with the meal. Single momming these birthday parties can get a little out of hand. I needed the help, and I appreciate it!! Thank you!)
As for birthday cake, R-boy doesn’t like it. And the only thing he dislikes more than cake is ice cream. We brainstormed candle-worthy treat ideas and he chose donuts-with a pile of fresh raspberries in the middle. Mmmm. When we couldn’t find enough of the flavor Jack wanted, we picked two different kinds of donuts and made half-and-half treats.
They were a hit.
The best part of the day? Besides R-boy’s smile, it was all the energy in all those boys. There’s nothing like it. (Exhibit A: Heather’s C flying across the camera screen, while R-boy throws confetti in the background.)
It was a good party, and I’m pooped. Good nite, all. Til next year!
by julie rybarczyk
5 Comments