Bonding moments don’t have to go as planned. Sometimes you bond, just not in the way you intend.
My dad, avid golfer, decided at some point in my sixteenth or seventeenth year to teach me how to play golf. Since he had a handicap of about seven, I was all for it. He planned to start with teaching me how to swing at the driving range. Excited about passing on his golf skills to his daughter, he bought me a golf glove and we practiced my hand-over-hand grip at home.
Once on the driving range, we ran into a problem. I was fairly well endowed for a teenage girl. Daddy’s swing (as well as the swing of everyone else he knew) involved keeping his left arm straight. Soon he realized the impossibility of his right-handed, well-developed daughter keeping her left arm straight on a golf swing.
After walking around bent-over with his back to me (read: laughing his butt off, trying and failing to be discreet about it), he looked at me with a relatively straight face and said, “I can’t teach you to play golf. Let’s go home.”
At least I got a golf-glove out of it.
© Laura Hedgecock 2013
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