I spent the day on the lake with some good friends who recently purchased a new boat. My 2-year-old and 5-year-old were fearless. My daughter smiled and cheered for the “captain” to go faster. The kids jumped in the water without a care in the world. We took a break from swimming to eat lunch under a crystal blue sky.
My 12-year-old and his friends went tubing. They didn’t flinch as they were tossed up and down, side to side. Then, the moment I feared all day became reality. My daughter wanted a turn. I tried to bribe her with potato chips and candy to stay on the boat. She said, “I will eat it after my turn.” Well, she can’t go alone. This is the part of parenting nobody warns you about.
There really isn’t a graceful way to climb into an inner tube. I looked like I was playing Twister on an oil slick. As I reached my arms up to grab my daughter I realized I didn’t shave my armpits this morning. I wasn’t ready for a Grateful Dead concert, but it wasn’t pretty.
My daughter was nestled in my lap as our “captain” slowly pushed the throttle. When we hit a wave she yelled “Yipee!” I let out a glass shattering scream. The water was slamming against my ass with such force it felt like I was being attacked by a Proctologist. Still, I would have gone again to hear my daughter giggle.
It really was a perfect day. Now, if these damn kids will just go to sleep. I’m exhausted!