Gas Pedal

With such a love for golf, my parents decided it was time for them to take me to a course and pass that love on to me. The course normally only allows 6 year olds and up on the course, but made an exception if we agreed to be the last ones out on the course that day - we did. Even though it was only a short, nine-hole course, they got a golf cart so I wouldn't have to walk the whole way and to keep me safe. I've been on a course before in Cancun, but it was a while back and my mom mentioned something about there being a seven foot alligator on the course with us - so I've conveniently forgotten that round of golf.

Anyway, they set me in the passenger side of the golf cart, my dad walked down to the tee box, and my mom walked to the back of the cart to put something in her bag. Have you ever read the Curious George books? Well, I can totally relate to that monkey. I looked down and wondered to myself, how does this cart go? I bet this pedal makes it go. Only one way to find out...And I stepped on the gas pedal with all my weight and Wa-la! I was flying.

I'm too short to see over the dashboard of the golf cart so I just hung on to the steering wheel for balance. I heard my mom scream my name as I slammed into - and over - an 8" wood barrier, that led to a hill, which led to a pond. The next thing I knew my mom was grabbing my head by my hair from outside of the cart (lucky I have some crazy hair) as she slammed on the brake. That was some ride!

Lots of people came over to see who was driving the cart with such style and finesse. My mom pointed to a wood bench and said I should sit there...for a LONG time. She said something about loosing a few years off of her life and put out her hands - they were shaking like she was holding an imaginary jackhammer. Odd.

Four guys lifted the golf cart back over the barrier and I heard one say, "I definitely want to hear how THIS got here." He must have been impressed too.

I tried to talk but was shushed. Then I tried small talk - nothing. Then I cracked a few jokes - no laughs. So I said, "I'm sorry," and my banishment to the wood bench was over. A few serious-faced lectures and we were off to the tee box of the first hole - the round of golf must go on!

So I got some time on the course and learned, first-hand, the basics of golf; namely, hitting the gas pedal of a golf cart will get you banished.