Got balls? I do. That's right, Diva Balls. I played with them for most of Saturday. I sunk them, I rolled them, I lobbed them, pitched them, and putted them. It was so much fun that I nearly forgot how hot it was on the course. What? I'm talking about golf balls people!
You see, today is mine and my hubster's 7th anniversary. Yes, we've been together for 12, but due to...powers that be, we were unable to marry right away. Blah, blah, blah. Long story short, my hubster loves to golf. He never goes because he feels bad for leaving me home with the boys while he's off playing. I don't understand this because I take off once a month for my writing group with no guilt whatsoever of leaving him with the boys.
My solution to his golf woes was to start going with him. I didn't think I would enjoy too much, and as I did the first time, then this time--on a full 18--I have become addicted. My hubster bought me clubs, the bag, the glove, the whole nine, and best of all...Diva balls. We had a wonderful weekend. Saturday we golfed, talked, went out for dinner, went to see The Proposal, and for a moment we were reminded how awesome we are together. Then the babysitters left, Bam wouldn't go back to sleep, and morning rolled around faster than I wanted. Today we shared our anniversary and Father's Day with family. We caught a glimpse of our oldest child--then we blinked and he was gone again; swam at my SIL's house; ate some great food; ate some more great food; came home to relax which included me putting together our new lanai furniture by our pool in the blazing heat; then kicking back to enjoy a chilled glass of wine. One shower, a Diet Dr. Pepper, two bottles for Bam, and a sleeping child later, I am ready for bed myself.