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Credit Cards, Golf & Photography
By bigpumpkin | March 29, 2007
I asked T’s grandmother today if she had been teaching T about Mr Visa or Mrs Amex.
Negative.
Then she quipped that T needed no explanation as she was a natural information baby magnet. (*Note to self - no more bitching about anything that would cause me to want the floor to swallow me with super strength suction, if repeated).
We spent the last week in Kota Bharu on the East Coast of Malaysia at my in-laws. My FIL (the only dad I have ever felt some form of relation to) is an avid golfer who plays every single day. Rain or shine. Even if his dick were to fall off, he’d need his golf marijuana fix. That’s the way with addicts, you know. He is so tanned that you’d never believed he was pure Chinese. Hell, you wouldn’t even believe he was Indian. (pun intended)
After stealing a wonderful idea from scribbit, I made it my mission to introduce the world of golf to little T during our holiday. Alas, I could not emulate the perfect home-made golf set but we did the best with what little resources available, which wasn’t much at all. An unused section of a plumbing pipe of 1 metre (perfect length), a few golf balls and a metal dustbin placed horizontally. Hey, it’s the concept that’s important, right?
Wrong.
After five failed attempts of scoring a hole-in-one, T requested for a hole.
A hole? What hole?
“This one is not nice. I don’t want this.”
“It’s not good. I want a hole. A real hole.” T explains to her eager audience in exasperation.
Not ever having exposed her to golf before, we were perplexed as to what she was trying to tell us and kept reinforcing that the circle around the dustbin WAS a real hole. See? It’s a HOLE!
More head flinging shaking ensued whilst she got more flusterred.
“NO! I want a real hole!!! HERE! In the ground!!!” T said angrilly.
The Hubs and I felt like total idiots whilst both her grandparents scurried like slaves to a dictator, to search for a spade to DIG her a real hole in the ground. Not just any ground. It was the ground of a perfectly landscaped garden with a beautiful blanket of green turf.
Whilst trying hard to convince T that the dustbin really was more fun and dissuading my old in-laws to please NOT spoil their perfectly laid out grass, I was again perplexed as to where she had learnt about golf.
With glee and her newfound hobby, I immediately asked my mother if she had exposed T to golf. For T’s whole existence, I pretty much control what goes on in her life and thus know what she knows and what she doesn’t apart from those odd occassions when she gets dumped at my Mother’s. My mother again claims nescience so without us knowing, somehow or other, T must have caught a golf game on the idiot box.
Which brings me to this: my perennial problem with the Hubs. Being the nominated and accepted family photographer, he did not take any shots of our budding pro at her game. Can you fucking believe it? He did not even take a single shot of our whole week of holiday. Do I need a new photographer or a new husband???
Topics: The Pumpkin life, Square Pumpkin, Small Pumpkin |
3 Responses to “Credit Cards, Golf & Photography”
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March 30th, 2007 at 1:24 am
was wondering where u went. No pics? So wasted.So in the end was the lawn dug up to please yr little princess?
October 17th, 2007 at 7:31 pm
[…] since this incident we’ve been wondering if Tee would have an interest in golf too because we were thinking of […]
November 28th, 2007 at 4:57 pm
[…] what does she want to do? Play golf. Real golf. If you want to know her version of fake golf, go here for the same thing that happened exactly 20 months ago (it’s a post with everything else […]