Originally written in 2024
Graeme and I had been driving Brad to STARS for his doctor’s appointments, and rather than drive all the way home and back again, we started waiting at Victoria Park, about 600 metres away, and playing putt-putt.
It turned out to be a fun way to pass the time.
Today, Brad joined us after his appointment.
And suddenly, things got competitive. 
I always claim that I don’t have a competitive bone in my body. Apparently, that only applies when nobody around me is competitive.
There we were — three grown adults taking putt-putt ridiculously seriously while families with young children quietly witnessed the deterioration of our maturity.
You would have thought there was prize money involved.
Or a championship title.
Or that our lives depended on sinking the next putt.
Fortunately, relationships survived.
Graeme and I are still talking.
Brad still made us dinner tonight.
So I think everyone won. 
Stories Along the Way 