If you’re like most people in a loving relationship with a life partner, you’re dying to test it.
Sure, the two of you are in love and happy, but how will you fare in a crisis? Will your love survive some dramatic event?
Of course you could have an affair and test the relationship out, but in this day and age who has the time to topiary their pubes?
So absent an affair, how do you test your relationship?
May I be so bold as to suggest a water park?
Because within the first ten minutes of entering Splish Splash, I’d misplaced two of the three kids with us and was looking at my Husbandrinka with panic and concern, he said “alright, so I’m going to find a lounge chair and read for a while.”
The love that I felt for him at that moment is indescribable.
We went to Splish Splash Water park on Long Island yesterday and I have some things to report.
* All three kids — my daughter and son and my daughter’s friend, ages 10 to 13, loved it. Like loved it and want to come back many times, no matter how tight my straight jacket will become.
* They went on rides with terrifying names, they stood in lines, they ate at the Fry Hut and they didn’t seem bothered by the fact that we were in the 90 plus degree heat all day long.
* I was a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown the whole day long.
* I was worried about losing the kids, being run over by crowds, injuries, getting skin cancer and the co-payment on my eventual institutionalization.
* Husbandrinka got some reading done.
Here are some highlights:
As we are driving on the Long Island Expressway, singing happy songs on the way to the water park, we see a monstrously tall structure reaching into the sky.
OH MY GOD! the kids scream. This is the water park! It is SO AWESOME!
I make a sign of the cross (and of a Star of David) and mumble to myself. It can’t possibly be. No. That huge thing can’t be a ride. It’s probably just a nuclear reactor or something. Everything will be ok.
Like a crazy man, Husbandrinka turns into the parking lot next to the giant Tower of Death.
We all get out of the car.
And spend the next 20 minutes applying sun screen.
Then we walk from the parking lot to the park itself. The kids start to whine. I remind them that it took the Jews forty years to get out of Egypt and they should be grateful that this is just a 10 minute walk, without locust.
We arrive at the water park. Hey, remember those rhetorical questions, like what would happen if everyone in NYC came to the same restaurant on the same day at the same time? No need to wonder, because everyone in NY did come to the same water park at the same time.
It means that there’s a shit load of people at one place.
We enter the water park.
I experience chest pain.
Where do we change? Where do we go? WHO THE HELL ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE AND WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THEM?
We see a Mermaids changing room and my daughter and her friend and I head there.
Husbandrinka and son head to the Pirates changing room.
We meet, all bathing suited a few minutes later and the kids squeeze in a short but meaningful fight about who is better Mermaids or Pirates (“Mermaids aren’t even real!” “Pirates are criminals!”) I am having fun already/praying for a quick death.
Where will we go first? I suggest “home” but no one’s paying attention to me.
WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE GIRLS?
Husbandrinka tells me he’s going to get a lounge chair and read.
SERIOUSLY, WHERE ARE THE GIRLS? THEY WERE JUST HERE. OMG. OMG. My friend is never going to forgive me that I lost her daughter. FUCK. This is why I hate dealing with other people’s children.
Oh, there they are. They are looking at waterproof airbrushing tattoos. Ok. They’re alive. Bonus.
Miracle: Kids all agree to go on the same ride. It’s the Hollywood Stunt Rider, where you wait go down a huge water slide in a raft. There’s no way that I’m going. I will wait for the kids at the end of the ride.
They stand in line for an hour. The ride takes thirty seconds. Everyone who comes out of the ride looks so crazy happy. I assume from brain damage.
Because I am a nervous wreck at this point, I quiz everyone getting off about the ride.
Was it scary? Fun? Did they feel like their safety was compromised? If they were a 10 year old boy or a 13 year old girl, would they have enjoyed it?
I am not making any new friends.
Finally, my kids zoom down. They are laughing and saying that they loved it and they are SO HAPPY.
They go on a few more rides and I try to find a place to charge my phone.
I overhear a man say “fuck all this bullshit, I’m going to go to Lazy River and sit my lazy ass in one of those tubes and float on the motherfucking river.”
This man is my soul mate.
The rest of the day, I wander around in a daze as the kids run from one ride to another, excited and energetic and so, so adorable.
At the end of the afternoon the kids are tired.
“The lines are so long!” They say. I use this opportunity to tell them about the bread lines in the USSR. This is educational for the whole family!
As we’re leaving, I ask the kids if they’d want to come back.
They all do, but when it’s less crowded.
I suggest we come in January, when fewer people will be there.
The kids groan and roll their eyes.
Thank you, Splish Splash for the tickets. My kids love you.
One year ago ...
- Dr. Shark Week - 2008