Barnacles

My father has told me since I was a child that I was not graced with coordination. When I was a teenager I left a note on the kitchen table saying that I was going to go try out skiing for the day. My Father said he picked up that note and held it close to his heart because it was the last communication he would probably have with me.

I did survive the skiing episode, but it was not pretty.

So this past weekend some friends tried to get me to go on a jet ski for the first time in my life. I said I'd go, if we stuck to the inlet, and a moderate speed. Well, the driver passed the inlet and there I see the yawning stretch of the Atlantic before me. Nothing between me and jolly ole England but a gazillion miles of treacherous ocean. The speed picks up and saltwater is lashing my face so that my eyes are just little slits used to peak through my eyelashes. A giant racing boat, aptly named The Rocket goes flying by us at 300 miles an hour leaving a six foot tall wake in its path. We hit the wave dead on and next thing I know, the warmth of the vinyl seat has left my rear end. I'm flying through the air and in the corner of my squinted eyes, what do I see, but a fin! Yes, a fin slicing through the water.

Having spent a lot of time on the Discovery Channel, I learned that you need to punch a shark in its snout to disorient it. Ever punch a shark? It's like tapping 'the Hulk' on the shoulder. Fortunately with I being fair of skin, I had enough suntan lotion on that I landed on the shark and slid down his body, grabbing onto that fin and somehow coming to rest in a straddled position. You want to talk jet ski! I now was on the ride of my life. He started in towards shore, believing in his little shark mind that the faster he went the easier it would be to shake me. Well, I held on for dear life until finally he bucked like a bronco and I flew threw the air and collided with a barnacle-covered buoy....cutting up my foot in the process. hahahaha...okay, truth be told...I never went in the ocean. I rode the jetski around the inlet at fifteen miles per hour and when we pulled back up to the pier, in my typical graceless fashion, I slipped climbing off the jetski and scraped my foot against the barnacle-covered ladder getting out. bah

Comments

  1. I'm really sorry that I've ruined you. You used to be such a nice, sweet, law-abiding young lady. LOL!! A very good tale indeed and I was buying it all right up to the part where you said you put on suntan oil... I knew better. A refined adventurer like yourself would never be sissy enough to wear anything like that in public! Ha! Ha! Really good. Now wasn't that easy? And the more you do it, the easier it gets. I think Miss Merry will have my hide for corrupting you. Tanx for the laugh. Brendan

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  2. When I was growing up, I couldn't stand still long enough for Mom to get suntan lotion on me. Inevitably around 3 in the afternoon I would announce, "Mom, I'm burned." To which she would respond with a Mother's wisdom, "Then get out of the sun, dear." To which I would respond with a child's sense of arrogance, "No."

    Of course this conversation took place when I was 30. hahaha

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  3. You are too much!! You had me until you were riding the shark. I am much impressed with your humor and think you should write a humorous novel. There's nothing like a good laugh! I'm doing it right now thinking about the shark. I never was one for the sunscreen either. I don't think they had such stuff when I was young. My teenage years was baby oil laced with iodine. Oh the thought makes me cringe with what I know now but what a tan I sported! Launa

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  4. Ah...miss Launa. I did the baby oil as well. We went to the park and as I'm laying there with my baby oil on, my Mom was sneaking in pina coladas inside my baby brother's bottle. Hahaha..I complete forgot about that until you mentioned baby oil.

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