Sunday, January 21, 2007

Goofy Golf, Ammo, and Religion 101

Now that I have your attention.

Yesterday was a girls' day out. My husband had some errands and chores to do, so the little girl and I decided to have some fun. The weather was pretty nice (sorry all you ice storm survivors out there), and we were in need of some overpriced entertainment.

Miniature golf and ski ball.

Why is it that making the right choices is so crucial to a good game of goofy golf? We end up standing there for what seems like the span of an epic film to select the correct themed course. Mountain is too hilly, yet Island isn't quite up to par (pardon the pun) for our particular level of expertise. Should we go with the oversized giraffe or the big scary gorilla that is missing a tooth? Red, blue, green, or yellow ball? Which putter?

There are just too many choices! The good thing is that they give you no options regarding the writing tool in which you must record the significant golf score.

The little Barbie pencil sans eraser.

The pressure of no eraser just mounts. Don't they know I am going to make a mistake? I have to add numbers horizontally! No form of recreation should involve math.

After all of the crucial, life-altering decisions, my daughter and I had a good game, complete with the mildewed outdoor carpet and stagnant waterfall. Winter is an off season for miniature golf. I even scored under par. I don't know which is more pathetic, the fact that I remember my miniature golf score or that I blogged about it.


Sometimes there are days in a girl's life that remind her of her special talents and skills, moments when she realizes she is capable of things she never knew.

I'm talking about virtual clown annihilation. Yes, I am the Mac Mommy of Knock Down, the game where fluffy, stuffed clown dolls meet their doom at the hands of a gamer with 50 cents, a ball and a puff of air. I scored so well that my daughter had to hold the tickets as they cranked out in a steady, red paper chain.

It's all about the tickets, man.

We scored so well at ski ball, stomp the spider, and clown death that we were able to trade our huge stack of tickets for a string of beads and a bubble charm necklace. Woo Hoo. Score!

All for only five bucks in quarters.

The day ended with a promised "slumber party" which really just translates to "Let's watch a movie, eat snacks, then sleep on the living room floor with every blanket, pillow, and stuffed animal in the house."

It took some time for the giggling to stop. I lay there sleepily, surrounded by pink, fluffy blankets and plush animals. The night became quiet until I heard the following questions in the dark:

"Mommy, can you tell me about Hanukkah?"

"Mommy, what are the blue dots in blue cheese?"

All very pertinent to a good night's sleep after a long day of decision-making, slurpee drinking, and close-range shooting. I've always hated clowns...

Update- Now go see this at Big Mama's, but be sure to visit the little girl's room first.


Big Mama said...

I bow at the feet of your clown knocking down skills. It's never been my gift.

It sounds like y'all had a great day!

Tammy said...

What a great mommy-daughter day!
(Poor clown!);)

Anonymous said...

Oh totally agree. Any recreational thing should never involve math. With no eraser to boot. Sounds like you met the challenge quite well though!

Your day sounds wonderful right down to the sleepover on the rug. Makes me wish mine were little again. Think I can talk my almost 17 year old and my 12 year old into doing that with me? Mind you I might not be able to get up off the floor if I spend the whole night on it.