Waiting for J to finish golf camp, I put the time to good use.
Then I went to get J. He was packing up his clubs and, forgetting about putt putt, I commented that I'd never seen him hit the golf ball. The nearby instructor piped up, verbally fumbling and stammering, kind of like the halting "whoa" of an ogler in a beer commercial, and then croaked in almost a whisper, "He's gooood."
That's my boy. When I later asked him how far he could hit it, he nonchalantly said they went past the 150 sign. I think he's found his sport. Ex looks forward to him buying us houses one day.