Picture the scene: It’s a spectacular Saturday morning. The sun is shining brightly, barely a cloud in the sky. It’s warm, but there’s a gentle breeze blowing making the temperature feel about as comfortable as it can get – warm enough for short-sleeves and shorts, but not so warm that you’ll be sweating like a hog by the 8th hole.
It’s the nicest day of the year by far. It’s the perfect day for golf. Your clubs are clean and shiny, new spikes in the shoes, no sore muscles. You’re all dressed and ready to go. You’re just about to head out the door for another wonderful day on the course. And then it happens.
Have your ears deceived you? No. You heard it exactly right. Your wife just said “Maybe I’ll come with you?” As if she was a Jeopardy contestant, she stated it in the form of a question. But you already know…that was no question. Nope. She just told you she’s going with you.
People always say “It’s not what you say, but how you say it.” Normally that’s true. But not in this case. In this case, it’s both. It’s what she said AND how she said it. But not believing your ears, you ask for confirmation anyway. I mean, it’s possible she said something else and you misunderstood right? Maybe she said something that just sounded like it. Maybe she said “Who’s going with you?” or “I think I’ll wear blue.” or “Hey honey, why don’t you stay out as long as you would like, play golf for a while, drink beer and smoke cigars with your friends and come home whenever you feel like it?” It’s possible. So you give it a shot – “What’s that babe? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of my clubs rattling in the bag.” But it’s worse the second time. Now it’s like the scenes from the movies where everything slows down and the voice drops to that deep bass tone, like a 78 RPM record being played at 33 1/3. “I…said…, maybe…I’ll…come…with…you.” You cringe. Now what?
The kicker for me is, my wife doesn’t play golf. Doesn’t care about it, doesn’t want to know about it. She couldn’t tell you the difference between a putter and a bogey. But what she does know is it’s a nice day and the golf course is a great place to relax, have a drink and get some sun without having to put on a bathing suit and get sand in her shoes.
Now I’ve taken my wife to the range before. It was a sight, for lack of a better term. Handing her a club was like handing a cell phone to my grandmother. Some things are better left in the hands of others. I’m no PGA pro and I sure as hell shouldn’t be teaching anyone the proper mechanics of the golf swing. But I do know the basics. I tried to pass those basics along to her, but it was no use. You ever see a baby just learning how to walk? It’s walking into things and falling down and you can’t help but to laugh. Picture that baby with a golf club in one hand, completely throwing off it’s balance even further, and a glass of Jack Daniels in the other. It was like that. But less graceful.
So why on earth does she want to come with me? She’s not going to play. She’s going to be bored out of her mind. And she couldn’t care less about the conversation going on between my friends and I. As a matter of fact, she’d probably be offended, or even repulsed by it! But for some reason, she wants to come.
But I think I know what it is. I think I might know why she wants to come. And better yet, I think I know how to fend her off. So I’m going to take a shot at it. Here I go…
“But honey, we’re not taking a cart. It’s such a beautiful day, we’re going to walk the course.” She responds “Walk?! Forget it. I’ll go shopping instead.” It worked! She just wanted to ride in the cart! I try to tell her that it’s not all that much fun, but those guys on Jackass sure do make it look like a better time than it is.
When we get to the course, I tell the guys about what happened at home and how my wife almost showed up with us. We all had a good laugh before we strapped our bags to the back of the carts and drove-off to the first tee.
So there you have it. The final chapter of the tale of my three wives in one. Fellas, if your wife is anything like mine, then I hope I’ve helped you to understand that you are not alone. Maybe I’ve even provided some insight somehow. However, if your wife is nothing like this, then I at least hope I have provided you with some type of entertainment at my own expense. If this is the case…you’re welcome.
Thanks for these stories! This last one in particular was especially hilarious for me because in our house, it’s the other way around. I play golf while my hubby sits around and watches football, or does some tinkering around in the woodshop. So when he asked if he could join me one day, I was pleased at first. “YES! Free caddie!” Then, he just couldn’t get over how bad he was even though he was a GUY. Yeah. That’s what he told me. We haven’t gone golfing together since :).
I don’t think the golf cart strategy would work for me… but what does work so far is: “oh yeah, I think my girlfriends were gonna meet up with me, but I’m not sure…” Last thing he’ll want to do is help my friends carry their pink cart bags! Case solved :).
I’ve never had this happen in three and a half years of marriage. She went with me on our honeymoon, but she just sat in the cart. I’m okay with that, though. The wife on the golf course could be both a blessing and a curse.
I love your description of your wife at the driving range. My husband read it and said it sounded like me, then added, “…and you call yourself the golf girl…what a joke”. At which point I threw a chair at him.
The thing is though I really do love golf and I’m definitely determined to improve my game, but even now it’s my husband who always want to play with me, not the other way around. What’s that all about? 😉