The Garfers Are Here

We live near a pretty big golf resort and surprisingly, unless you live near the joint or frequent it for golfing you aren't really aware of the amount of traffic that it brings with it.  Though sometimes when you happen to be in the 'not' grocery store (which recently changed names and since I can never remember the new name of it I just call it the old name and add 'not' to the beginning) you might notice a large group of men dressed, ahem, a little different than the rest of the people in town cuddled up in the alcohol aisle.  Because everyone dresses like that and buys that amount of alcohol when they go not grocery shopping.

Ahem.

Miss E is fascinated with the place where the golfers live (a/k/a the motel rooms) and the fact that 1/2 of the year no one is there and then, like magic I guess, everyone arrives.  She asks all of the time if we can drive through where the 'Garfers' live and has whole conversations with me about the fact that we drive through the garfers front yard (meaning the parking lot) but we don't drive on their backyard (which I suppose she means the golf course?).  And they have an upstairs, and lights, and some of them have a grill but not all of them have a grill.  And.  And.  And.

You know how it is with four year olds, right?

So last night she asked if we could do our usual drive-by to see if anyone was there and we discovered that it's that magic time of year.

"Mom! Mom! The garfers are here!!!"