Thursday, October 8, 2015

Hole In One


Growing up we lived across the street from a vacant lot. My dad would stand in our front yard and hit golf balls into the lot. 



One day, I was driving home from school and pulled up right as his ball smacked into the curb, ricocheted, flew back across the street . . . 



and . . . 



smashed into one of the picture windows at the front of the house.



To his credit, he stood there for a minute and then started to laugh. 



"I guess I better go find my ball," and he went inside. 



This is what happens when you promise your 11 year old that she can get a puppy if she makes a hole in one. 


A happy kid and a cute puppy . . .  



but I'm guessing there haven't been anymore golfing bets. 



My sister sent me a follow up - 


[W]e were inside, heard a loud crash and saw the golf ball roll into the family room. Soon, dad calmly walked in, picked up the ball and went right back out to keep hitting balls.

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