My tan was fading, so Hoop-lah took it on the road yesterday. We hit the Lost Island waterpark in Waterloo with our neighbors. Second annual visit. Big Dog even joined us.
For as much time as I spend at waterparky things, I'm not a big fan. I can't see without my glasses, and I really don't enjoy accelerating backwards. Particularly in the dark. Then getting a noseful of bacteria water, which happened twice this week when Carly and I flipped our tube.
So you can understand my hesitancy about going on a new attraction - a roller coaster that Big Dog assured me was much tamer than Adventureland's log ride. Don't worry about the sign that says extreme, he said. Uh-huh. Let's just say I didn't go on that ride twice.
Right after that, he went on a slide that is like a toilet - you swirl around in a big bowl before you get sucked down a hole and pushed out the other end. Spectators can watch from the top. You should have seen the look on his face when he flipped his tube at the hole and flew down head first. He wasn't hurt, which is good. But I have to tell you it was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. And I couldn't help but think it was fate's way of saying, "That's what you get for lying to your wife!"