So I've been trying to figure out exactly how to write about this. I've had it on my list of things to write about but to be honest, every time I started thinking about it, I kinda got skeeved out. This goes back a few weeks to when Jay came out to visit me while I was working in Austin. He brought his golf clubs and spent one of the days playing golf with a buddy of his.
It wasn't until Jay had been in Austin for a couple days that he finally decided to let me in on the packing, um "issues" that occurred. Apparently, when he was packing to come to Austin, his golf bag broke. He was scheduled to head off to the airport and a mild panic ensued as he tried to figure out what to do about the golf club situation. He decided to use my golf bag.
My golf bag... I need to say a few things about my history with golf to set he scene here. Bottom line, I suck at it. A big part of my sucky-ness is probably because my golf clubs have been sitting in my golf bag since before Megan was born. Now that I think about it, it has probably been since I lived in Denver which means those golf clubs haven't seen the light of day since 1999. So we've been carting those golf clubs around in their golf bag between our moves. To give a bit of perspective, over the last 9 years, we've lived in 5 different apartments/homes. But when I did play golf, of course I had to look the part so I had the gloves, tees, balls and of course, the shoes. And herein lies the problem... the golf shoes.
Jay started to tell me about cleaning out my golf bag. "Yeah, uh well when I opened the part where your golf shoes were you would not believe what I found. I guess at some point, in one of our homes, your golf shoes became, uh home to...well...something."
My skin immediately began to crawl. "WHHHAAATT?" was my response. "That's so disgusting! What was it? Was it still in there?"
Jay explained that the critter, most likely a mouse, had nibbled the inside of my golf shoes and used the insulation to create a cozy abode for itself.
I continued to ramble on for a moment as I scratched my arms, face and head in order to alleviate the severe case of heebie jeebies I acquired after hearing about the shoe invasion. "That's so gross! What did you do with the shoes? Did you throw them away?"
"No." Jay said. "I set them on the fireplace in the house so you could see it. You won't believe it."
And he was right. I couldn't believe it.
Update: Jay pointed out that in my story above I didn't clarify that the golf bag I am referring to is the travel bag for the golf clubs, not the golf bag itself. I thought that was apparent but in an effort to not emasculate my husband by having friends and family think he played 18 holes with my feminine looking bag, I am clarifying that it was the travel bag... and it was quite masculine...navy blue.