The River Wild or How Baby Has A Little Less Back Than She Used To

It’s Football Time In Tennessee!!! Thank God. Seriously, go right now and thank Him.

If you’ve never had the pleasure of going to a season opener in Tennessee, let me help you imagine the magic. First, you must park and walk…and walk…and walk. Which never bothered me before, but the addition of three children, one of which was far more concerned with her gameday fashion than the actual game (she will be hands down, the best sorority sister EVER), made the walk a little longer…and hotter.

But- I have to hand it to the girl, she can accessorize with the best of them. And so we walked.

And climbed, to the very tip-top of Neyland Stadium where we sat in the noonday sun and sizzled like bacon. BUT, we had a ball before we were all struck with the delerium of dehydration.


We Vol Walked, we sang Rocky Top, we jumped for joy, we inhaled the aroma of body odor and whiskey, we toured the campus, we people watched, we drank $50 worth of bottled water, and we talked with much fervor about our river tubing adventure that would take place on Sunday.

And this is where I need to stop for a minte. Apparently there is a point in planning a family trip that the responsible adults need to know when enough is enough. Because really, there is only so much fun that can be had in a period of 48 hours.

“Enough” is a word we have not familiarized ourselves with…yet.

And apparently in the Momsense economy “enough” isn’t enough until someone ends up in the emergency room.

Oh sure.

After insisting on leaving the family run on the river tubing adventure because it was “weak” in the words of the kids, we ventured onto the “Adventure” run. The Adventure Run has an age limit…you have to be 5. Hardly adventurous.

Basically you sit in an inner tube, float down the river a couple of miles, encounter three sets of rapids, get out, and do it all over again.

Which we did.

3 times.

It was the third time that got me. Coach and I had been floating down the river talking about wanting the kids to have more outdoor experiences…not being soft…being at one with nature.

And he almost…ALMOST had me convinced that a pop-up camper would be a good idea.

ALMOST.

Until there was a freak rapid riding accident that left me stranded on a rock in the middle of a rapid without my float.

I won’t give you the blow by blow, the very short story is this: floating calmly, entered rapids, assumed the position which Coach assured me would give me the ride of my life; was having the ride of my life until I realized I was under water without a float; got up, fell down, flailed about like a beetle on its back; realized I should to find a stable place to sit and wait for friend and her 5 year old daughter to come down on their tubes and I could hitch a ride.

But wait; there is a hitch in my plan.

Along with said friend and 5 year old girl, is friend’s husband, who it seems, is also having the ride of his life.

Until…

the ride of his life ended when it collided with the remnants of the ride of my life, and we both ended up floatless and flailing like beetles on our backs… in front of the gallery of people that had assembled on the banks by the campground.

During the collision I felt a searing pain in my left hind end part; stood up, saw no blood and went on about floating the next half mile or so down to the end.

At that point the hind end was stinging a bit; I met back up with Coach and the kids who were jumping off rocks into the river all unscathed and giddy.

I told Coach I thought I might have cut my butt (sorry, couldn’t avoid the rhyme).

And I arose from the water. And the blood?

It was a flowin’

Down both legs and into my shoes.

Coach ran over, pulled my swim bottoms out a bit, made a weird noise and said: “let’s go we’re going to the hospital.”

Which is funny since I had just decided that regardless of the wound, I was NOT going to the hospital with a butt wound.

Then there was talk of going into shock and the four children all walking behind me gasping and screeching about how I’m bleeding to death, and of course, there was the blood. We had to do something to stop the blood.

So, I was usurped and we had to go to the hospital so that I could get my rear-end sewn up, which is another story altogether, one that will have to wait until tomorrow because frankly, I just can’t sit very long these days. So, stay tuned because things didn’t get remotely funny until we made it to the sweet little rural hospital.

But seriously, or should I say “Butt seriously,” how ironic is it that I was wearing a t-shirt that boldly professed that “I Bleed Orange” which subsequently ended up covered in what could only be described as Alabama Crimson.

Bummer.

See y’all!

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2 Comments on The River Wild or How Baby Has A Little Less Back Than She Used To

  1. Brittany Ann
    September 8, 2009 at 12:30 pm (8 years ago)

    This is definitely something that would happen to me. Although, if it’s any consolation, you probably have the only real reason you can use the phrase “cut my butt” in a post. And I am a little jealous of it.

    Reply
  2. leslie ruth
    September 8, 2009 at 3:15 pm (8 years ago)

    {While I may not be writing myself, I will definitely still be reading and commenting 🙂 }

    A. AC and I need to be buddies. Clearly, I have thing or two to learn from that little fashionista. You make it work, girlfriend!

    B. I told you you were going to get some amazing blog fodder out of this.

    C. Bummer. Bum. Hee hee…

    Reply

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