I'd Make a Tiger Woods Joke...

but since this post is about my 3.5 year old son and Tiger has turned out to be such a randy perv, it's probably not very appropriate. But we went golfing today. Of the mini variety. Also known as "put-put." An ages old tradition of kitchy dragons, windmills and bright blue astro-turf.

We were celebrating the sunshine. For the past couple of weeks, we have wondered if our Earth didn't perhaps shift on its access about 800 miles north and sent us careening into Seattle's weather pattern. It has rained for about fourteen days in a row in the past few weeks, the sun just peeking out from behind the clouds for good (or, for now) yesterday. So today we felt we had to get out of the house and do something to pay homage to the big yellow fire ball in the sky. And since the likelihood of seeing us on a hiking trail is pretty much the same as your chances of seeing Glenn Beck giving Obama big bear hug (note: sign of the Apocalypse), we found our great outdoors within the chain-link fenced mini golf course and arcade (although the arcade technically is not "outdoors") a few miles from our house.

Mini golf with a not-quite-four year old? It's an exercise in both patience and giving up control of all-the-rules-that-make-the-world-go-round. Watching Ethan pick his little green dimpled ball up off the astroturf and plop it into the cup? Sent me all twitchy. I try not to be a "color inside the lines!!!!!" type of mom because I'd like my kid to spend as little time as possible in therapy later in life (who are we kidding? He'll spend some time there, but I'd like to think I can minimize it through my own actions. Because it is all about me). But for some reason, golf seems to be a rule-laden sport (yes, even the put-put kind!) and watching Ethan kick his ball, sweep his ball all around the 'green' with the club and grab it in his chubby little hand and toss it into the cup just all made me antsy. Sometimes I was able to bite my tongue and laugh at how much fun he was having breaking the rules. And other times Husband had to remind me that he is three and its fuckingminigolf!!!

After the fresh air and good sportsmanship (except for the dad and two kids in front of us who repeatedly called each other "loser" as each took a shot---not really your Noggin type family fantasy land, but whatever), Husband and I gave in to the ding-ding-dings and flashing lights, certainly contributing to a future parent/teacher conference during which we will hear: "Ethan's a sweet boy, but he seems to have trouble focusing and paying attention," and took Ethan into the arcade. Ethan sat on Husband's lap and raced snow mobiles, souped up Mazdas and probably a motorcycle or two.

Best part about the whole day? We discovered that the mini-golf course opens at 9:30am on Saturday mornings. What a wonderful father/son bonding experience: Saturday morning breakfast and mini-golf! Mama senses some quiet time in her future.

waiting for the magic to begin....

Husband shares his years of mini golf expertise with the young one...

See? Hole in one. I put it there myself.

Again with the tongue 'o concentration.

Clearly today was "dress your child in the dark" day. He is a fashion "don't" on so many levels here. I take full responsibility. I am sick of him always being better dressed than me. My fix? Dress him like a shlump, too.

this is how you hold it, right?

blue astroturf & green golf ball. Just like the Masters, right?

Nothing says "classy" like a chain link fenced-in activity.

caught red-handed

what?! I totally hit that in with my club. Fair & square. Right?

Dude, I'm so beat from hitting golf balls through the windmill.

There's always time for air guitar...

...and golf club jousting

lining up the shot...sort of.

Ethan versus the windmill
perhaps it's time to trim the bangs. perhaps.