Mini Golf: A Game of Death

On this occasion, as a boy younger than 5 years old, I went to spend the weekend over at my grandparents. There house smelled of cinnamon and old newspaper. After being there maybe an hour, we all went to Forsythe’s miniature golf course to play a game. As a child, I was a lot more hyper; one might even say I was “Wild Out”, so my favorite thing to do with a putter on the miniature golf course was to slap shot the ball. The feeling I got from watching the ball bouncing off of everything it hit was very amusing to me. On the first hole, I probably took around six shots to get the ball in the hole, seeing as I saw it to be a lot more to drive the ball then to move it towards the hole. Now, my grandparents didn’t really approve of my unorthodox golfing style, but they didn’t really prevent me from doing it, at least not during the first two holes. As my Grandpa recorded everybody’s scores, my grandma and I moved to the next hole. I placed my ball on the ground preparing to tee off when I heard my Grandpa say something to my Grandma that momentarily distracted her. As she looked away, I swung the club back as hard as I could which flung my Grandmother’s glasses from her face ten feet or so plopping right into a water fountain. The frame was  bent and the lenses were shattered.  This is what one would describe as an, “Oh….Crap.” moment. It is hard to think of a more jaw dropping instance then when you hit your Grandma in the face with a golf club.

                Luckily my Grandma didn’t get hurt, I had managed only to take her glasses off, and not smash her face in. Her glasses were however destroyed. After the second hole, we left Forsythe’s and took a trip to the mall to replace my Grandma’s glasses. My Grandparents were very cool about this incident and thankfully didn’t get to upset. They understood that it was an accident, and I must have spent the whole car ride there and hour long wait for new glasses apologizing to them.

                Since that day, I have been a lot more careful with my golf swing and we all look back at the incident in a humorous light. My Grandma often gives me snack foods that taste good whenever I see her; we have not gone golfing since.