When I graduated from law school, the Bun got me a series of golf lessons as a graduation present.  The idea was that golf would be both an outdoor activity that he and I could take part in together and something at which every lawyer should be marginally competent.

Over the last year or so, we’ve tried to get out to the driving range at least once every weekend when the weather has cooperated, gone a number of rounds of pitch and putt, and  hacked our way through a few 9 hole games on a par 3 course.  It would not be an exaggeration to say that in the case of the pitch and putt and nine holes, most of these outings have been replete with tears, accusations of cheating, and an alarming amount of cursing.

But I was cautiously optimistic when we set out today for an afternoon of pitch and putt. Things at the driving range had been going relatively well of late. Balls I hit actually had been making it off the tee a good percentage of the time.

And I am thrilled to say that we had a wonderful round. I made par twice, and I even got a birdie! What was most exciting was realizing that we were “those people.”  The last time the Bun and I had played pitch and putt, there was a couple right behind us that seemed to make every shot perfectly.  We sighed and fretted as they kept having to wait for us, and we wondered if we could ever play as easily and comfortably as they did. They made it look effortless, and, more importantly, they made it look fun.

And as fantastic as it was to hit one great shot after another today (and it was pretty fantastic), it was even better to realize that we were those people, enjoying each other’s company and having a wonderful day out on the golf course. I don’t think I even cursed once.