Rory didn't make the cut.

And Tori was sad. After all, they've been besties since she met him at the club when he was practicing and she was there to claim her ski team awards. Well, not exactly besties but she's a big fan.

We attended the Friday round at the US Open with way too many other people. Surprisingly, The Youngest Pinks were really into it. Paris was in LA with her cousins. We parked ourselves at the green on the first hole and watched until Tiger, Phil and Bubba came through. Then we went to the member's only grandstands and watched the eighth and ninth holes until again, Tiger, Phil and Bubba came through. We wrapped up the day with some retail therapy in a tent with an interior as large as and as well-merchandised Nordstrom, and seeing a few groups on 18.

Dave has decided that this is The Pinks' Summer of Golf so they loaded up on adorable US Open logowear in that tent.

The Olympic Club bore little resemblance to the club we know and love; there were grandstands and concession stands and tents everywhere. And people and more people.

On the shuttle bus back to BART we had a hilarious time with four Rickie Fowler groupies. They were dressed in his trademark logowear, monochromatic with flat-brimmed hats. The orange reminds me of European sanitation workers.

It was a long day and definitely one of the best we've had with the kids.

Since then Dave has golfed a bit with The Pinks and the five of us went to the driving range together. Dave's got the right idea -- incentives and everything is a game. I took golf lessons the year we were married and haven't played since. I may have to get back into it seeing how it's now going to be a family activity.