Funny Guy Friday... And he cried, "Wee wee wee wee... all the way to the golf course..."

    Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
    Last night was supposed to be Matthew's back-to-school night, but it was cancelled due to a gas leak at the school. This was bad... this was really, really bad. Not because the school was going to blow up or anything... I mean that would have been bad, I suppose. But the real tragedy was that I had planned on getting some good stuff to write about... and then, I had nothing.
    Matthew started high school at Archbishop Spalding and I have to be honest... I have no idea how his academics are going, but I do know that he is rocking the social life. He seems to know everybody and has something going on every day after school. I was looking forward to meeting his teachers and finding what idiotic things my son has done.
    Oh well, I guess they will reschedule, so look for some future FGF about Matthew.
    Cheryl and Noah are back in the swing of home schooling, so I suppose I could write about that. Again, I have to be honest... I have no idea what is going on with home schooling other than Noah has taken an interest in cooking. He has prepared two delicious dinners the past two nights.
    I have no idea if he is learning anything, but I do know that my little man is going to make someone a great wife someday.
    So, now what do I have? Oh, I know...
    About three weeks ago, I needed to quickly move some boxes out of my car and so slipped Matthew's slides onto my feet. Slides are best described as a flip-flop/sandal blend... only they don't stay on your feet. After the fifth time walking out of them, I kicked them off and carried on in my bare feet. Thirty seconds into my project, I jammed my two small toes into the curb... OUCH!
    I am not a doctor or anything, but I am pretty sure I broke my little piggy toe! Not much you can do about a broken piggy toe except go barefoot until the swelling goes down and the pain subsides.
    The pain started to subside this week, and so I did what every normal person with a broken toe does when they start to feel better... I ran the bases with Noah's baseball team to end Wednesday's practice.
    Again, I am not a doctor, but I am pretty sure that this was a mistake. Not only did my toe hurt again but my lower back began to ache. This was bad. This was really really bad... not because of my health, but because I was scheduled to play golf in yesterday's First Annual Calvert County Bar Association Golf Tournament.
    My good friend became a judge last year, and now that he is no longer required to work, he has time to implement all of my great ideas (see Golf Tournament and Ski Weekend). He will claim the ideas as his own, but we both know who's the brains behind the operation. Please don't say anything to him about this because he is a judge... and I am not!
    So I woke up with my broken toe and sore back and entertained second thoughts about playing, which was too bad because I really like these types of tournaments. They are Best Ball or Captain's Choice; everyone hits a shot and you only play the best one. I play about three or four times a year, and for as little as I play, I am not too bad.
    This is kind of a curse.
    You see, I refuse to play more (not that I have much time for that anyway) because, at least, now I can say... For a guy who never plays, I am not too bad.  If I played more and didn't get any better, I'd be just a bad golfer.
    I couldn't handle that.
    I understand I set the bar low, but it works for me.
    Anyway, I was scheduled to play with my friend (the new, semi-retired, full-time judge), a retired partner from my firm, and his friend, a real-retired judge.
    Now, here is the thing... a few years ago, the real-retired judge was involved in a head-on car crash and probably broke half the bones in his body. He has undergone more than twenty surgeries. He is lucky to be alive! His walking, let alone his golfing, is quite a miracle.
    But I doubt if he ever had... like... you know... a broken piggy toe... or uh... er... an achy lower back.
    Okay, if he could go golfing, then so could I.    
    I played... but not very well. He played... and here is the thing: with all of his replacement parts, he is still much better than I.
    Must have been the piggy toe.
    I would hit a great drive, and he would hit one forty yards further. Fortunately, he would only mention that he out-drove me... every time that he out-drove me. Teasing aside, just watching him was really an inspiration.  I'd like to think that my playing injured was an inspiration to him as well.
   In the end, both he and my retired partner were much better golfers than my friend and I.
   So here is the take away: I need to become a judge or retire, so I can play more golf. That and a mended piggy toe... and there'd be no stopping me.