At least that’s how it feels here in the midwest in July! In a vain attempt to keep cool over the weekend while we were in St. Louis, the boys, James and I as well as about 100 of our closest relatives decided to go to the waterpark. Okay, well not quite 100, but enough that at one point everyone on the lazy river inner tube ride was related to me in some way, shape or form.
I have to admit that the waterpark is not my cup of tea. There are way way too many kids, way way too much jiggly flesh, way way too much potential for future melanomas, but I find consolation in the fact that the waterslides are almost like a roller coaster if I squeeze my eyes tightly shut…only wetter…much wetter. In fact, I am waiting impatiently for my youngest to be just tall enough to go on the big slides and then the whole family can partake of the stomach churning 45 second rush right before 10 gallons of water fly up your nose during the landing! Yeehaw!!!
Now they have this whacked out surf pool wave rider thing that I just had to check out. A good tip off might have been that there were no girls, no women whatsoever in line to ride on this stationary surfing monstrosity. Not to be outdone by my BIL and husband, my sister in law and I hopped in line behind them and one by one as the bodies of those misfortunates ahead of us flew off of the boogie board, I realized that I just might have made a serious error in judgement.
As my turn came up I walked, to the edge of the wave pool and in an attempt to look cool, I dove right in and quite nearly missed my board entirely. For a brief second as I hung onto the board for dear life, I thought..hmmmm this might be okay after all. Until, I realized that I was no longer on my board, in fact I was no longer on the wave, but had been spat out the top of the surf pool like a waterlogged rat. Now the water pressure and current is so strong that when I figured out that I was no longer boogie boarding, I also realized that I couldn’t stand up either. So after throwing myself forward to get out of the current, in the process, spraining my big toe, I managed to stand up and turn around to face all of my onlooking family as well as about 100 other people at the snack bar, the kiddie pool and the brave souls waiting in line for their turn at the torture device.
It was then that I realized that not only was everyone I know cracking up with a slightly embarrassed look on their faces, but that I had been the victim of a wardrobe malfunction of the Janet Jackson kind! Now I had a sprained toe and some seriously sprained pride! I’m sure it will be one of those stories that will never die either, like the horse and the beaver or James and the nunchucks.
So, I’ll say it again, the waterpark is not my cup of tea, or coffee or boozy beverage…I think I’ll just stay in the shade and read from now on!