I know many of you must think that my poor husband is so incredibly neglected and has such a difficult life.
It's September, surely he should of had at the very least nine BIG golf get-a-ways.
Well, my poor neglected husband had the pure misery of attending the PGA Tour Championship in Atlanta today.
I only heard the beginning of his story about his day and then the increasing sounds of violins playing began to drown out the remaining part of the story as he was saying that it rained most of the day, but having executive level passes allowed him and his bestest buddies to remain either in the tent or clubhouse and enjoy food and beverages...then there was something about watching trophies being engraved and autographs...but by that point it was all just white noise.
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Before I receive the telephone call from my husband (after he reads this post) reminding me that I was invited to go with him on this trip, let me set the record straight.
My husband did invite me to go with him today. Although the mere thought of standing silently next to sweaty strange men for four hours in the pouring rain in the sweltering Atlanta heat makes my heart just skip a beat, it just wasn't feasible.
When the cost of Monkey's therapy/medical expenses reached more than the annual salaries of our housekeeper and nanny, we had to let them both go.
So, who else was going to milk the cow, chop the firewood and get the vittles on the table, not to mention play with the small, blue-eyed mammal that we own?
I mean seriously...one day away from the farm and everything would fall to pieces.
