Why I Should Avoid Sports that Involve Flying Objects

Sunday was a nice day here in Idaho, a little breezy but still nice. The man and oldest son wanted to go golfing. Great I was thinking, because the other two were off at an overnighter for Young Marines, so I should have the house to myself.

But no the boy had to go and invite me and as I stood there in complete silence for about 5 minutes thinking off all the excuses I could use not to go like:
     
     1) This is time for the two of you to bond, father-son moment!
     2) I have homework (Which I didn't)
     3) I need to clean the house (which I wouldn't have done)

So I went,

It was a nine hole green and I did get a par 4 on one hole but let me tell you it is nothing like playing Wii. Plus I had to carry a golf bag which again no need for one on a Wii.

But that is not the best part of the day. At around the sixth hole, I'm standing twenty feet to the right of my husband and maybe 10 feet down from where he is hitting (sorry don't know the technical stuff). I was standing next to a tree-bush, when all of a sudden I look up at he hits the ball right at me and nails me in my upper thigh. How high, well he thought I was going to be singing like a soporno(sp) but not that high and I'm not a boy, but close. But I was brave I didn't cry, yell or swear, just walked around and told him to leave me alone for a bit.

So now I have a golf size bruise on my leg (literally) and I have a counter attack for when he teases me about breaking the new TV while playing golf on the Wii.