The clubs were sacrificed to the golf gods.
I begged him to go, so I couldn't really be mad, but somehow I was.
My parents were out of town and my brother and brother-in-law decided to go to the driving range. In an attempt to make my boyfriend bond with the two of them, I basically forced Jared to go.
My sister and I decided to go get pedicures while the boys were golfing.
Half way through what was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon with my sister, I got a text message from Jared asking me how attached my dad was to his golf clubs, because he had broken two of them.
He's constantly joking around, so at first I just assumed that it was one of those weird pranks that I didn't find funny.
Then, I got a photo message with the heads and the shafts of the clubs. Needless to say, they were very much seperated.
There were a million things going through my head. Most of which I'm too embarassed to type for anyone else to read.
He broke the news to my dad, who actually took it better than I did. And we've been able to joke about his tremendous golf skills ever since.
This Web site is designed to keep people from repeating Jared's mistake.
Who knows, maybe he will even learn something. He could definitely stand to, because he has since broken three different clubs of mine.