Tomorrow I am going on an adventure with a lifelong buddy and three of his boys, ages 19 to 26 to a Schlitterbahn, a serious waterpark in Galveston. We used to take the boys to stuff like this when they were kids and we all loved it. My friend just bought himself a 61st birthday present, a travel trailer; it has walls that expand out, indoor plumbing, air conditioning and sleeps six. We used to take the kids tent camping so this should be a big improvement, especially since the forecast is for triple digit temperatures. We a calling it a Peter Pan I Won’t Grow Up Reunion. I have referenced Peter in one of my favorite limericks (one of the first ones posted on this blog)
Grow old gracefully? You must be dreaming!
My Peter Pan Syndrome is teeming.
If I may be so bold,
Here’s how I’m growing old…
I’m going kicking and screaming!
We are going to have a blast. It will be goofballs gone wild. The place opens at ten. We will be getting there early and I imagine the boys will be hauling the two alte cockers back to the trailer by three, if we last that long.
This type of mission requires special equipment – #70 sunblock, a ridiculous bright orange Clemson Columbia crushable hat with a granny string and the darkest sunglasses a couple of dirty old men can get. I hope we don’t get whiplash as our heads will be snapping around, that’s for sure. And while I am on the subject of ridiculous, it led to this:
You know that Peter Pan is my hero
And I subscribe to his credo.
But at a waterpark, I’ll be cool.
No need to flaunt I’m a fool….
So I won’t be sporting a Speedo!
Not that I wouldn’t look good in it – I workout four or five times a week. I’m a hunkasaurus with an AARP card. I might wear one under my old man bathing suit for added package protection. Hey, I am a newly wed and with me, the honeymoon never ends!