It all started out quite innocently. I love swimming. Take me to a lake and drop me off and I’ll be a happy camper. So Happy Hubby did that, except he didn’t just toss me out. He came to keep an eye on me, plus he planned to have a nice afternoon nap under the trees – just like the other week.
Happy Hubby doesn’t swim. He rarely even drinks water, let alone swim in it. But he naps very well. He was nicely nestled in his gravity chair under the tree. But, sad to say, he didn’t get much of a rest.
The problem? I had decided to take along my dinghy – first mistake.
Before I knew it the wind and my inexperience with the ridiculous blue and yellow short plastic oars, had me in the middle of the lake. I couldn’t dig deep enough with the silly oars to move properly and I found myself getting a little dizzy pirouetting in Conestoga Lake. I wasn’t in the least bit afraid, though, and was just contemplating whether to head on over to the other side of the lake (in the general direction of where the wind was taking me anyway) or to hop off the raft into the lake and swim back to shore with it in tow.
Then, without warning, I spotted a speedboat heading in my direction. Both officers were very nice, although I think their smirks were holding back gales of laughter when they came upon this little more than middle aged woman having a dual with the ridiculous plastic oars.
“Having a little trouble?” one asked. I denied the word trouble and mentioned I might be out a little too far. They agreed in unison. We chatted and they advised I get into their boat and they would drive me back to shore and tow the raft behind them.
Poppycock. I would have none of that. I’ve never been one to mess with the law, and I wasn’t a hundred percent sure where the parameters were when it came to not doing what the young officers were asking me to do. Grinning, I declined their offer. One of them had his eyebrows high when I said no thanks. They looked at each other and I think I saw them shrug. But never once did I see the glint of handcuffs, so I figured all was well.
“Okay,” came the official word. “What are you gonna’ do?”
I opted to toss my life jacket in the raft, jump in the lake and swim, one-armed, towing the raft back. I preferred not to look like I needed the assistance of the aqua law officers.
I gave them a big smile and a few words of gratitude. They said they would follow me in. Ugh. So they did.
“You’re going to get quite a workout,” one said. They might have been concerned for my (ahem) maturity. I told them, “I might be old but I’m strong.”
They had those smirks again and told me to be careful.
Admittedly, that was the longest swim ever. I made sure I swam towards the little peninsula on the side, though, so I could get out sooner and catch my breath and get rid of the aqua-police before all eyes on the beach were upon this more than middle aged grandma.
The smiling officers bid their farewell. Then as I clambered onto the rocky piece of land, I spotted him – my happy hubby standing at the edge of the lake watching me. I know if I had got into any kind of watery trouble any fantasy he might have had to rescue his damsel in distress would have been waterlogged, to say the least. But he is a problem solver so maybe he would have ripped off the rope cordoning off the swimming area and brandished it my way rodeo style.
I knew he was once more amazed at the drama I was creating today. As I got closer dragging my dinghy behind, I saw it – that shaking head, the raised eyebrows and another kind of smirk – the one I’ve been seeing for over 38 years.
Sigh. . .