Get in the Hole!

We've grown to love golf. Oh, we don't play. It's entirely to hot and muggy for that. What we love is watching golf on TV, specifically in HD. Sitting here at work with the US Open playoff going in the background I've been reflecting on why we have such sudden affection for a sport that neither of us has ever played and we don't even really know anything about.

The first thing that struck me was the surface stuff. The visuals are stunning. On it's own though, the picture quality would not be enough to overcome how annoying it is to hear the crowd yell "GET IN THE HOLE!!!" after every shot. So, our love must come from something deeper than that.

I think that what's really at the root is the fact that by early afternoon on Sundays, Doombot and I are beat. We're a special kind of exhausted that only comes from interrupted sleep and two days running around in service of a squirming, screaming, nap-refusing howler monkey. When we finally run out of gas on Sunday afternoon we'll all crawl into bed with the lights out for a little bit of mind numbing entertainment. Between the darkness and the mind-numbing voices of the announcers, Orion generally starts to wind down. Yesterday, as Tiger Woods came back to tie the...the...what? The match? The game? The set? Whatever. As he forced today's Playoff, the squirrel drifted off to sleep.

Guess what we got in return for his screaming every time he wasn't being held for three days! He went to bed at 8pm and slept for six whole hours in a row. The web tells me that anything over five hours is considered sleeping through the night. I want to call bullshit on that. Especially when that sleep session ends at 2am. Thank goodness Orion took a quick feed and went back down until 5am and then again after a longer servicing (free diaper change with fill-up!) went back down until 8:30. For those of you keeping score at home that means that Doombot and I slept for a blissful seven hours last night! Oh, they weren't in a row or anything but beggers can't be choosers.

So for those of you parents out there wondering how to lull your little tyrant off to sleep after an exhausting, cranky weekend. Try golf.