Stupid Things My Family Does: The Golf Ball Challenge Edition (Part 2 of 2)

Wondering what this is all about? Here’s Part 1 so you can catch up.

In my rush to squeeze in some extra golf-ball hunting before the impending deadline, I had not grabbed my phone on the way out the door. (No, not for tweeting … for telling the time!) This was why I had no idea that the church mass was already finished as I strolled down the street back from the golf course. I could hear a car slow down beside me. The man inside it was eyeing me with surprise.

As I strolled into the garage with a bag of golf balls hidden behind my back, Hubby just smirked at me. He was out of time, and we both knew it.

For the big countdown, all white balls would count as one, while coloured balls would count for double. Now, remember that one of the rules was that neither team was allowed to keep track of their balls. This meant that we were all in a state of suspense.

The Lions unveiled their hidden stash of ball. “Yes! We’ve got them beat,” I thought. My Eagles team mate did not look so certain. As for Hubby, he looked like a little boy madly trying to do a mental calculation of how many jelly beans were in the jar. But none of us knew for certain. It would come down to the count.

And count we did. Who knew that so many lost balls could be found in high grass!

The Eagles finished up their count first: 179!

Despite the high score, I had lost my initial confidence. The more balls that the Lions counted, the more sweat started to bead down my back.

Why the sweat … it’s just a silly game, right? Ah, but remember that there would be a “consequence” for the losing team. It had been determined that the winners could dress the losers up in whatever outfit they wanted. Then the losers would have to march all the way from one end of our street and back dressed up in this silliness.

176 … 177 … 178 …

The Lions still had more balls to go.

We were done for it.

Defeated.

Crushed.

Gutted.

In the end, they won by 9 balls with a score of 188. But the close score wasn’t going to save us from our humiliating “consequence.”

Hubby chose to dress me as a mountain climber, while Max chose to dress Stella up as a pirate.

As we turned to begin our walk of shame down the street, I could hear Hubby dialling up numbers on the phone.