Sharks, a Hurricane and a Timid Grip
Is loud snoring a justifiable reason to wake someone up? My wife thinks so. On the first night in our luxury suite she tickled me awake about a dozen times in our rented bed. I know this sounds exciting, but it’s about as fun as having someone give you a wet willie without the benefit of a good ear cleaning. My daughter joined in on the fun by shouting that the sun was up many times before I could get to her room and unsuccessfully convince her that it was actually the moon shooting all those beams of light through her curtains. Unfortunately spring ahead didn’t go in effect until the next morning, so this was at 6:30 am while we were on vacation.
Being the trooper that I am, I didn’t let this slight inconvenience affect my positive attitude… once I had my complimentary bland coffee in me, that is.
On our first full day in Myrtle Beach we went to the Ripley’s Aquarium because when it comes to animals or fish, my kids are usually enthralled. Anything that keeps these over-energized little freeloaders occupied makes my wife and me happy.
The place has many cool exhibits, but I thought the circular shark tank was the best. It looked as though you could touch the menacing beasts, so I lifted the boy to the ceiling whenever a shark swam over our heads. I’m worried about him though, because he smiled just a little too much when his fingers scraped the glass.
Our interest was peaked when we noticed people pick up living things out of a tank in the middle of the room. It was decided, not by me, that I’d join in on the festivities so I reached in and picked up a seemingly alive creature. I told myself not to let them sense my fear. By them I meant my wife and kids and, of course, the prehistoric freaky looking Horseshoe Crab that was in my hands. Even though I was informed by the crab caretaker that it wouldn’t hurt me, I winced when its spiny legs tickled my hands. I know that my wife enjoyed seeing me vulnerable like this, but my daughter wouldn’t even look at me while I held it. Maybe she could tell that I was afraid and little girls aren’t supposed to see their Daddies cry. The boy liked it, but we didn’t let him get too close for the sake of the crab and we didn’t want to get kicked out.
After the tour of the aquarium ended we did what all responsible parents do; we went to Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville. What child doesn’t want to eat in an establishment that has a giant blender being filled with alcohol from a bottle that drops down out of a hurricane on the ceiling? That was rhetorical. It was actually a lot of fun, especially after my third margarita. Don’t judge me because it was the only way to get my hands to stop shaking.