Mom and Dad came by on Sunday for a quick little weekend trip and so that Dad and I could play some golf together. He’s beat me consistently over my golfing “career” and I’m OK with that. I’ve been improving year after year and finally have beaten him a few times this year. We enjoy playing together, but we’re both extremely competitive. We tend to talk a lot of shit too.

So as last week went on and I was trying to get a confirmation that he would come down I finally got the word on Friday. I email Dad telling him I booked an 11:00 tee time. He comes back and says, “Wanna play for the supper bill?”

“You’re on,” I write back.

I got owned! I’ve never seen my Dad play so well. He shot a 39-42 and missed a sub-80 round because he hit in the water on the 18th hole. Part of me was rooting for him, but I can’t lie and say that part of me wasn’t rooting against him. I’m going to hear about the ass-kicking for awhile and I didn’t need him shooting in the 70s to make it that much worse.

So what did I shoot?

Uh…52-50. Probably my worst display all summer long. I couldn’t hit a drive, an iron, or a wedge. Chipping was actually pretty good, but my putting was not up to my standards. It was an awful 18 holes of golf. Sure enough though, I had to birdie 16 to make me want to come back another day.

So not only did golfing cost me $39, but I had to buy dinner for Mom and Dad which ran me another $84 at LoneStar. $123 total. It’s not paying the bill that hurts, it’s my pride!