Kids Mac
& Cheese

There is a particular sound a seven-year-old makes when he makes his first par. Somewhere between a cheer and a gasp. I heard it on the 8th hole at PopStroke Scottsdale, on a windy Sunday in late September, and I'll hear it for the rest of my life.

Leo had been struggling. Three strokes here. Five strokes there. One memorable seven on a two-tiered green that seemed, to him, personally unfair. But on the 8th he lined up a short putt, slightly downhill, took a deep breath like I'd shown him, and stroked it in.

Par. A real, honest par. He circled it on the scorecard so hard the pencil went through.

After the round there was only one way to celebrate, at a patio table within sight of the playground. Kids Mac & Cheese. The classic. Nothing fancy, nothing clever, nothing trying to be anything it isn't. Just mac n cheese, warm and comforting, the dish that has been making children happy since before I was one. Chips on the side, crunchy, ready to be stacked into a tower and then destroyed.

He ate with a focus he had never once applied to homework, as if it were the best mac and cheese on earth, one eye on the slide the whole time.

"Dad," he said, fork in the air, cheese on his chin. "Do pros get mac and cheese after a par?"

I told him only the very best ones do.