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ARGYLE AND KEGELS
So I should probably be outside mowing the lawn, pulling out weeds, or replacing the old sand with the new sand in the old sand box, but instead I'm waiting patiently for my burst of energy and thinking about everything but being productive. Tierney had soccer today. It was a slow start but it ended up okay. I'm just glad she wasn't overly distracted by her sister running up and down the fields in her larger-than-life pink tutu (thanks to Coach Heatwole). Uncle Andy came to watch which was a treat.

I'm counting down the hours until I play golf tonight with my book club homies. However, spoken as if (um, written as if?) I was not born and raised in Alaska or attended a college not-so-conveniently located on the top of a MN hill where the average low temperature in January is negative 20 . . . without wind, I'm not looking forward to playing in the cold (my name is Paige, and I enjoy run-on sentences).

Watching golf on TV is fun. But it's also deceiving . . . at least to those who don't have palm trees lining their streets or lemon trees planted in their backyard. Somewhere along the way I have painted a romanticized picture of what golf should be. The sky is blue. It's hot. There is a mild breeze-- just enough to keep the sweat to a minimum. I have a special compartment in my golf cart for my beverage. I know what club to use each time I'm up to bat. I know where I'm aiming. I know how to keep score. I'm wearing an argyle sweater vest with striped capris and think I can get away with it. I'm having fun. I'm solving all of the problems of the world and, at the same time, being reminded of the fact that I should really practice my kegels more often . . . because I'm having so much fun. My game rocks. I have my own "GET IN THE HOLE CLUB" following.

Turns out, not so much the case in my world (with the exception of the having fun part . . . and the special compartment part). Ah well. It'll be cold tonight, but frolicking on the golf course with the gals will no doubt be a good time, layers and all. Maybe I'll show up wearing my fuzzy polka-dotted ear muffs and see how long I can pull it off with the ladies . . . without cracking up.*

* Prediction: I'm guessing Shannon will be the first to notice it (knowing that it's a joke), and say something like, "Nice muffs!" Amy, will notice, compliment them, but will be a bit unsure as to whether or not I really meant to wear them on the golf course. And Bame will will do the same and ultimately come to the conclusion that it was a smart move on my part to cover up the ears.