I played mini golf with Clara and Charlie on Sunday afternoon at Safari Golf — an excellent course down the road.
As we made the turn after nine holes, I tallied the scores.
Charlie had a one-stroke lead on me.
It was by far his best performance ever. A combination of excellent putting on his part and some missed putts on mine had him ahead of me for the first time ever.
He was thrilled.
So I scored four consecutive holes-in-one on the next four holes, including two incredibly difficult putts, to effectively put the game out of reach and crush his spirits.
Not an easy feat.
Four aces in a row.
Besides Clara’s miracle hole-in-one on the final hole to earn a free game, they were the only holes-in-one on the day. We played behind a couple that also failed to score a single hole-in-one all day.
But I had four in a row.
After going six over par on the front nine, I was seven under par for the back nine, beating Charlie by eight strokes.
With the threat of my son beating me in a meaningless game of mini golf, my blood ran cold, my focus sharpened, and I elevated my game to a new level and crushed any hopes Charlie had of beating me.
I stomped on his flash of momentary joy and hope because I am a monster.
