Friday, August 10, 2012

crab-pots filled with marmalade

You know what's been on my mind lately? 
Mini-golfing. I've been thinking about mini-golfing a lot recently.  Probably because I went mini-golfing with my family the other week. Mini-golfing is one of those things you expect to be so easy, and then it ends up being surprisingly challenging. You go into the whole evening thinking Seriously. How difficult can it be to hit this ball into a hole that's roughly only a yard and a half away from me? Answer: kind of really difficult. 
Maybe I'm just embarrassing myself by admitting my mini-golfing troubles, and all y'all are mini-golfing pros and have never experienced these particular woes; but this mini-golfing thing is a constantly reoccurring phenomenon in my life. See, I know I'm mediocre at golf, so I don't go into it expecting to be brilliant. My performance on the links usually lives up to my expectations (hint: my expectations aren't high). But COME ON, how hard can mini-golfing be? Why am I so bad at it? This is mini-golfing we're talking about, for crying out loud. There are literally no special skills involved in this "sport"--it's not even a sport, it's a miniaturized version of a sport. This is definitely one of those occasions my own estimation of my skill does not measure up to reality. 
But just wait. 
When mini-golfing becomes an Olympic sport, I'll be there, you can count on it. One day, I'll master mini-golf. 
Or die trying.

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