How About a Rootbeer?

My eyes are still burning from all the chlorine; but we had fun at the water park yesterday and today. The photo is Julia with Elvis hair. We'll get back to her in a moment.

Logistically this trip was kind of complicated. At one point I found myself walking through a parking lot in 28 degree weather wearing a coat, swimming trunks and sandals. My nut sack made its way into my chest for a while but it decided to come back down once I got back inside.

The girls had a ball. Allie gets braver and bolder each time we go to one of these places. Now it's Julia's turn to be timid. She's not too keen on doing much more than splashing around and going up and down stairs. I can't tell you how much fun that is for the person keeping an eye on her at the park. You go up the stairs. Then you go down the stairs. It's a rush.

Truly.

Julia did get brave a couple of times and went on some of the more advanced attractions. However most of the time someone had her in his or her arms. She peed on Debbie once. She got me twice. I realize some people pay big money to experience this sort of thing. Maybe we should cut Julia a check (I wonder what we'd write on the memo line)?

This trip was part of a Family Weekend tradition that seemed to peter out a little since Deb and I began to breed. I'm glad it has been resurrected. Although I didn't have much to do with it. Deb got us completely organized, booked the rooms, got us packed, loaded and generally pointed me in the right direction. It was a thankless job. In fact, all she really got for it were a few dips, a couple of fast rides, then peed on.

Okay, that's not a fair characterization of her trip. No matter how you slice it, it really is nice to get together with her sisters, their men and her parents. I am disappointed that, despite the amount of booze they carted up to our room, I didn't have cocktail hour with Pam, Cat, Mike & Jeff. Later, they called to let me know they were having a few drinks. I'll catch them next time.

I'm kind of glad I didn't get drunk. A water park seems like the wrong place to shed one's inhibitions. Not that it would have mattered. We were surround by half-naked bodies to the point where it became this huge melange of flesh. All shapes. All sizes. Deb and I had our own take-aways from looking at hundreds of bodies in their swimwear. Deb thinks teenage girls should be prohibited from buying thongs. I think people ought to trim their damn toenails. We both agree almost all body art is silly. At some point you will regret the huge Kanji characters for Year of the Ram you had etched on your left boob.

Now we're home. The girls are exhausted and everyone is crabby. It may have something to do with the fact that Deb and I are beaten and bruised. I mean it. Those slides knock the hell out of a person. Not to mention the fact that both of our sinuses have been repeatedly flushed with water that contains enough cryptosporidium to wipe out several third world villages.

I know it sounds like I'm complaining. I'm not complaining. We had a blast and I do know we're lucky we're able to enjoy a trip like this. However, the moment my body converts itself into a bathroom rootbeer dispenser is the moment I stop feeling so fortunate.