Samantha has been really interested in caddies recently, so I've been taking her to the driving range every week. We watch from the end of the range, which is cordoned off by a wall of golf netting. I've never paid the stuff much mind, until last weekend.
We were sharing some ice cream when a ball soared at my face, making an audible wooshing sound. It was caught by the net, but not before it scared the heck out of me. I exit the situation with a newly found realization of my mortality, and a great love for netting.
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