We went mini golfing. It did not go well. Desmond is extremely competitive with his sister, even though she’s four years younger than him, even though no one was keeping scores, even though we gave him constant reminders that we were just there to have fun.

Also, Aislyn did not wear her listening ears, had a knockdown, drag-out tantrum in front of the whole golf course, and had to pee so badly she tried to cross her legs while golfing.

So I took her to the bathroom, which was a porta-potty, and she said, “Ewwww, I don’t want to go pee pee in here!” She did go, though, but I had to do it first.

Then I just brought her to the car, because I had given up our clubs and balls right before hitting the bathroom, and she was not happy about it. She cried for 15 minutes, even after I told her we’d done 17 of 18 holes (we hadn’t).

On the ride home, to attempt to end the day on a positive note, I said, “Let’s get some doughnuts.”

“I don’t want doughnuts!” Aislyn cried.

“Let’s get some cookies,” I said.

“I don’t want cookies, I want doughnuts!” Aislyn cried.

“Okay, doughnuts, then,” I said.

“Aww,” said Desmond, “I wanted cookies.”

“I want doughnuts and cookies!” Aislyn cried.

The cookies went well.

The doughnuts went well, too.

The WW, not so much.

Oh, and this was my best putt:

Very apt, wouldn’t you say?

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