Bob stood over his tee short on the 18th hole for what
seemed like
forever. He'd waggle, look down, look up, but never start
his backswing.
Finally David, his playing partner, asked, "Why on Earth
are you taking so
long to make this shot?"
"My wife is up there watching me from the
clubhouse, and I want to
make this shot a good one," said Bob.
"Good Lord," said David, "you haven't got a chance
of hitting her
from here."
