Today I have to spend my day in two of my least favorite ways; wet and in a bathing suit.

The family is heading to a water park which is not one of my fantasy destinations. But it’s hubby’s birthday weekend and hubby LOVES water parks, as do the kids. I mean, what kid doesn’t? So we’re packing up the beach bag and driving 90 minutes to a place that has both indoor and outdoor water slides, lazy rivers and continually wet floors.

I haven’t had luck with water parks. I usually get hurt in the form of a scrape or a bruise. The final nail in the water park coffin was driven in about 8 years ago. The story is not one I wish to expand on – let’s just say a day at a Disney water park plus a certain monthly calamity does not equal good times for all.

Another reason I am not overly joyful about water parks is, I lean towards the chubby side. Therefore a day clad in a bathing suit translates into an extended & prolonged walk of shame. Thank goodness I’m a master at denial.

Not wanting to be the party pooper in the group, I am planning my water park outing offense. This includes a cover up, a book, and a lounge chair. Just yesterday I told myself I need a good weekend where all I do is read. Viola! That day? She’s a here!

I won’t be a complete dud. I’ll float down the lazy river, and I’ll escort my kids through a tangle or two of wet water mazes, but that’ll be it. I’ll leave the slides to daddy.

It’s his day after all.

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