Hello, Wisconsin!

After we rode the rides that made me question my existence at Mt. Olympus in Wisconsin Dells, we spent the next day at the water park where The Daughters slid down water slide after water slide, and I shamelessly flipped from front to back and then to front again every lifeguard change.  I like water slides, I do; I just like sitting around doing nothing in the sun more.

It's much bigger in real life...

Eventually, though, The Family required requested that I actually get up and come enjoy some of the festivities with them.  Our first stop:  Poseidon's Rage.

Poseidon's Rage, we were told, was a wave pool. That's cool. We like the ocean; we could certainly groove in a wave pool.

Together, we waded out to the middle of the wave pool and then, without notice or provocation, the wave began.  Wave - singular.  This was not a typical wave pool where the waves rolled for an extended period of time.  This was just one wave.  One big-a$$ed wave.

When the 24-story wave emerged from the deep end of the pool and moved at lightening speed straight toward me, I turned, tucked tail and attempted to run, as much as one can run in four-feet of water.  And then it hit.

The gigantic wave slapped me right in the back and I fell.  It rolled right over me and The Daughters.  I emerged from the wave feeling very vulnerable... very assaulted... very exposed.  Oh wait.  I was exposed.

To my right, Daughter 1 had a hold of my skirted bottom that was down about mid-thigh.  To my left, Daughter 2 had a hold of my shoulder strap, that was down about my elbow.

That, my friends, is a real mom.  I am glad, however, Time hasn't asked me to be on their cover.