That Was My Mulligan

So there’s this guy who golfs with his buddies every weekend, and his wife keeps bugging him to take her along and teach her to play. He finally relents, and the following Sunday finds them on the first tee.
She’s never played, so he tells her to go down to the ladies tees, watch him drive, and then try to do like he did. She goes down to the reds, the guy hooks his drive, and the ball hits his wife, killing her.

The police come to investigate, and the coroner says, “It’s the damnedest thing I ever saw. There’s an imprint on her temple, and you can read “Titleist 1.”

“That was my ball,” the guy said.

“What I don’t understand,” the coroner continued, “is the one on her hip that says “Titleist 3.”

“Oh,” the guy replied, “that was my mulligan.”