Curtis and a few of his cronies started golf lessons last week. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, four 5-year-olds invade our local private club's driving range, putting green, bunker and -- as of last week -- hole number four. Under the guidance of a "professional" they supposedly learn tricks and tips and, obviously, have boatloads of fun.
Last week, I nonchalantly inquired what he'd learned.
"Nothing!" he defiantly muttered, which normally wouldn't be cause for concern since the new status quo in our household involves a few similar sentiments which all pretty much translate to: parents are totally clueless!
Anyway. I prodded and pried, and finally, figured it out.
Ever since the lessons started, Curtis feels his swing has deteriorated. His grip is currently "messed up." His backswing is "like a lame L" and, as so oftentimes happens in this lovely game, his confidence is buried somewhere in the depths of a fairway bunker.
Not one to take matters involving golf lightly, we grabbed his sand wedge last weekend and hit the backyard. Axel, of course, in tow with his hand-me-down 7-iron.
Three minutes later everything was crystal clear: Curtis's swing, was indeed, "messed up."
Luckily for our big guy, his mamma is a seasoned albeit nonchalant player, and within a few minutes, we had it all mostly corrected. This was all accomplished between assuring Axel, who clearly also needed some tips, that "yes, your arms are straight!"
Here's the tricky bit. We still have three more lessons left. And both Curtis and I now have less than a sliver of confidence in this "professional" who will most likely continue to try to use kid-unfriendly tips for the remaining days.
So when Curtis expressed his legitimate frustration over the confusion bound to occur on the range over the next few days, I paused only momentarily before I offered the following advice:
"Just pretend, buddy."
"What do you mean, Mamma?"
"I mean that when he tells you something that doesn't make sense, just ignore it and keep doing what I've been teaching you."
Evidently, this was the funniest thing I've ever said, because Curtis hasn't stopped laughing since.
I, on the other hand, suddenly realized that I just encouraged dissing a teacher. Which will probably backfire one day. But for now at least, Curtis is back to driving that ball straight and far.