Noble vs. Dad: The Golf Club
As I approached him, I said, “Noble, that’s not how you hold a golf club. Here, let me show you.”
You would have thought I was trying to rip a favorite toy out of his hand, the way he clinched it and turned from me. With anger in his voice he hissed at me, “I don’t want you to show me!”
“But Noble, that’s not how you are supposed to hold it. If you let me show you, you will be able…”
“NO! I’m golfing! I can hold it however I want!”
At this point, in my head, I’m cursing my own flesh and blood and wondering why I bothered in the first place. Doesn’t the little ass know I’m trying to help him to have MORE fun with the goddamn golf experience?! SERENITY NOW!
It is at this point that a realization flashes into my head. My mom’s voice telling me about the time she was called in to talk to the Kindergarten teacher. Apparently we were writing our names at the top of the paper, and I wrote my name something to the effect of “P?JR.I$” and when the teacher explained to me that that is not how I spell my name, guess what I told her? “It’s my name and I can spell it however I want!”.
You win this time Noble. But I’ll be back! You haven’t seen the last of me!