Okay people get your brains out of the gutter –I know what you’re thinking. Admittedly I did blow through half of Shades of Grey last night. All I can say is crap… double crap… holy crap. For those of you who haven’t read it yet, let me explain it this way. When I first bought the book in the airport I thought “it’s a New York Times number one bestseller— it’s got to be good.” By the time I our flight landed, I suddenly found myself trying to figure out how to turn the barf bags into a book over. I instinctively put the book facedown so folks wouldn’t know what I was reading. Just hours into our first day of vacation I have reached the “good parts.” I feel like I do on those days when I stand in my pantry, pick up a Snickers bar, read the back and decide to eat it anyway. There’s so many things wrong with what I’m doing in that pantry. First I actually look at that label. I do the research. I know it’s terrible. I eat it anyway.
Worse than that, I HIDE.
The door is shut. If one of my kids walks in on me, I am as guilty as a past president hiding a dry cleaning receipt. So it is with this book. I know I shouldn’t like it, I know I shouldn’t read it, but I do. And I don’t want to get caught.
Anyway those of you that have read Shades of Grey understand the reference to sore ass and sore hand. If you haven’t read the book, trust me you will want to. Come back to this blog when you’ve completed it.
So this morning I was torn away from my book and forced to go on a WaveRunner tour with Chris and the kids. This was a designated “family” activity.
It seemed simple enough. Chris and I would each drive a WaveRunner. He would have Haddie and Maisy. I would have Sam. We watched the safety tape and we listened to the instructions very carefully. We then got on the waverunners.
It all went downhill from there.
Apparently, my mind was elsewhere when the instructions were given about using the throttle when trying to make a turn. I must have I had Mr. Grey on the mind when we were being told that the vehicle would be much more stable if we moved fast.
So as I headed out to sea with my brave and loyal son holding onto my back , disaster struck. I felt really unbalanced. Convinced that the WaveRunner was going to tip, I would barely give it squirts of gas at a time. Because of my asinine use of the throttle, we would lurch forward, topple sideways,and lurch forward again. In a futile effort to maintain stability I gripped the handlebars tighter and tighter. Naturally this 2000 pound machine did not respond to my measly grip. This iron grip and the repeated squeezw-release-squeeze motion on the throttle resulted in dramatic swelling of my thumb.
A few minutes into my pathetic attempt at druving, the tour guide doubled back and pulled up next to us. I know behind his fancy Oakley sunglasses he was suppressing the smirk. “Ma’am “he said “do you need some help.” ” No” I said I’m just a little nervous”
That’s when Mr. 22-year-old surfer boy decided to let me in on the throttle secret. After explaining to me that if I felt unstable I should give it more gas, he whisked off into the sun. Not to be undone by a smartass half my age, I squeezed that throttle as hard as I could. Thank God Sammy held on for dear life. For the rest of our tour whenever I got nervous I simply gave it more gas. As a result we leapt and lurched over wave after wave . We often caught air and plunged down hard enough to cause us to temporarily lift off our seats only to crash back down on them. Sam was squealing with delight and I was triumphant.
Never mind the pod of bottlenose dolphins we saw. Never mind the dolphin that was close enough to touch. The highlight of this morning’s escapade was Mr. WaveRunner guy putting his hand out and telling me I was “coming in a little too hot.”
Who says family vacations have to be G rated? In one short day, I “came in a little too hot,” have an ass so sore I will have a hard time walking tomorrow, and will need to explain the swelling in my right thumb to anyone who notices.
All in all a day even Mr. Grey and Miss Steele would consider a success (minus the foil packets.)