My Fear of Water (Part 1)

On my second date with Mr. Man, he took me to the beach with friends to go sea-doing. While he was apparently doing turns and tricks in the lake to show off and impress me, I was on another one, trying to stay on and not throw up. When I finally got back to shore, I had a hard time peeling my fingers off of the handles, I was hanging on so tight.

Of course I didn't tell him until much later, years later.  I am afraid of deep water.  He never knew I missed his impressive "moves" on the "doo".

In June I found a great deal on a trip to Niagara Falls and Mr. and I drove over for our anniversary.  I was so excited to be there and to get away on such a special day, I think the hotel concierge picked up on it and offered us other things.

"Have you ever done the Maid of the Mist?" she asked with a big, friendly smile.

"No, we've never had the opportunity," I said excitedly.

Mr. was looking hesitant, and not wanting to damper my enthusiasm, was trying gently to turn me off the idea.  But I was excited and signed us up.

When we got to room, he finally spoke up. "Do you know what the Maid of the Mist is?"

"Yes, we get to walk close to the falls and get all wet!" I said.

"It's in a BOAT!" he cried, "And they go INTO THE FALLS!"

Suddenly, my heart was in my mouth and I couldn't speak.  OMG, I thought. I wanted to get out of it.  Fast. In five minutes I had stupidly caused our deaths.  Panic, panic, panic, panic.

"$217.84!," he exclaimed, "@%^@%!" (Okay, maybe that was me.)

Shaking, I called down to the front desk and whatever I said, they ripped up our tickets and that was that.

Later, we walked down to the falls and snapped a few pictures. I glanced down to see the Maid of Mist, filled with people, on it's way into the falls.  They were all going to die, I thought. Ugh.  I looked at Mr. with my peripheral vision to see a crooked grin on his face.

Yes, this is what keeps our marriage alive. I make messes and he cleans them up.

Oh, and here's a final photo of me standing far away from the falls.  Notice the too-small t-shirt with I love California on it? Mr. had to buy it in the front lobby for $10 because I forgot to pack any shirts.  You've got to be kidding me, I had said. Sigh.

Rescued again.