Um, hello? Hi. Remember me? The blogging slacker? Because I know you were all waiting with baited breath, hoping and praying daily that I will resume my nonsensical ramblings. Right? RIGHT???
Well, the fam and I had a mah-velous time last weekend. We drove our very own selves to the water park! And we were blessed to have the company of two of The Dude’s friends, Brandon and KatieFish! Yay!!! I have to tell you that this is only the second time in my life having been to a water park, what with traumatizing myself and all the first time I went. That would have been about 12 years ago when my husband insisted I go with his family, and he has not gotten me back to one until now.
Here are some fun facts about me and water parks:
1. I’m afraid of water.
2. I’m afraid of heights.
3. I got stuck on the slide. Seriously. In front of what I’m sure was the entire park. It was awesome.
So you can see how I was SO excited for this weekend, right? Well, turns out the water park was not so bad because:
1. It was way more fun watching the kiddos having a BLAST, since only one of them had ever been before.
2. I ditched the kids to spend about 10 minutes drifting down the Lazy Lagoon with my hunk, which is the closest thing we have had to a date in months. Well, that is until the kids found us and flipped our boat. Little bit of a mood killer right there.
3. I did not go on any slides.
4. Most importantly, I DID NOT GO ON ANY SLIDES!!!!!!!!
The Zoo did manage to convince me to go on a couple of rides, and I was quite proud of myself! The first one was technically a slide, but it was okay because it was more like mini rapids and I was in a boat.
By the way: more trauma. Picture the whole line waiting and watching while a chubby lady tries in vain to climb into a rubber boat that won’t stay still without flipping her two small children out of it. And the tiny, young park worker that was about as big as my thigh having to help me into it. I mean, not that we’re talking about me or anything. We’re talking about…some other…chubby lady. Pity her, people! Pity her!
The second ride I
risked my life on rode on was called “The Cyclone,” but my dear children aptly nicknamed it “The Toilet.” This heinous contraption drops you five stories down an enclosed tube into a giant bowl that does indeed resemble a toilet, where you then swirl round and round until you drop through a hole in the bottom and swoosh down the drain into a pool.
What convinced me to get on this death trap, you ask? I was wondering that myself as I stood whimpering at the top, staring down that dreadful 45-degree tunnel. Then I remembered it was Sassy Jr’s sweet little face that had convinced me. The same sweet little face that giggled at me hysterically as I screamed all the way through the ride. There’s nothing like the ego boost you get as you scream in terror like a little girl while being mocked by a six-year-old.
In stark contrast to my…um…bravery, was that of The Dude, who, together with the Mischief Maker and KatieFish, flew so far up the ramp on “The Avalanche” that their boat rammed into the wall at the end and The Dude’s feet hung over the side — also five stories in the air. After exiting the ride, The Dude quite happily announced, “I thought I was going to DIE!” and then promptly got in line again. My children are insane. Make no mistake, they get it from their father.
Oh, and another fun fact about me and water parks: I learned not to use the toilet seat covers when you have just gotten out of the pool. Just trust me on that one.
Side note: I did not get any photos at the water park. I decided I would not be a slave to my camera! It was rather enjoyable, although it feels odd not to have captured the memories of their happy faces. I did, however, get a few pictures of after the water park.
This was our 50th anniversary, commemorative antenna weenie from the Weinerschnitzel. Yes, I just said “commemorative antenna weenie.” Try not to laugh. I dare you.
My children had never heard of the Weinerschnitzel, deprived little souls that they are, but let it be known that this did not stop them from downing a whole lotta da food after seven hours at the water park! It was an incredible sight, let me tell ya.
Oh, and this is the picture of our lovely van breaking down. Three-and-a-half hours from home. In the middle of nowhere. With just enough cell phone service to receive the panicked texts from the parents of the children that were with us wondering what is going on, but not quite enough cell phone service to send a response. So that was fun.
Luckily, our friends were smartical enough to connect with us through the local Highway Patrol to find out where we were and come like the Cavalry! Of course, with the communication problems and the distance they had to travel, the Cavalry arrived six hours later, at about 2am.
Math lesson for today: 7 tired children x 6 hours in a car = 42 billion degrees of fun. You should try it sometime. Kidding.
Here’s The Sassy One sleeping on our dash. It was the only space we had left, people!
We also had one sleeping in the floor, who confessed later that he had just spent three hours laying on top of a donut box. Why he didn’t move the box is beyond me.
THE SILVER LINING: My husband pretty much rocks!
Here he is with our car trouble: “Well, the car will start with a jump, but it won’t stay running and the battery won’t hold enough of a charge to keep the lights on. That tells me that the alternator went out. I can fix that in about an hour if the parts store has one in stock.”
Here I am with our car trouble: “Uhhhhhh……”
So after everyone slept awhile, the stores were open, and the dust had settled, the Mischief Maker and I drove back out to the van and — get this — we were ALONE. For nine glorious hours! Honestly, that was the best uninterrupted time we have had together for probably six years. Thank you, Jesus, for car trouble!