Maude goes to the water park

Recently we took a quick trip to a regional water park/hotel/money sucking industry to celebrate the birth anniversary of the eldest child in our family unit.  We have heard many rave reviews of said water park and our kids (who have no concept of the actual cost of things) have been begging us to go.

Rather than plan a big party where the kid would get a bunch of gifts we'd have to find places for in her already tiny and Lindsay Lohan-esque messy room, we gave her the option of the family getaway or said party.  Of course she chose the water park.  OF COURSE.

First I sold my grandmother's antique china set to pay for the adventure.  Next, we booked, well in advance, so we wouldn't be cursed with our usual hotel room luck:  first floor by the door.  Seriously, I've never trashed a hotel room in my life, how I have been cursed with bad hotel room location Karma escapes me. Oh wait....there was that one time in college....but I don't remember for sure.  Must of been the booze.  Oh well.

After a rainy, white knuckled two hour drive where I was forced to listen to the movie "Santa Buddies" (seriously kids?  in APRIL?!) we arrived at our destination.  I knew in my gut that things would likely go a little south when we passed the LIQUOR STORE, which, aside from the gas station, was the only standing building other than the "resort".  Cleverly, they have a sign that says "open late" and are planted solidly within stumbling distance from the hotel.

Check in was fairly smooth, I'll admit, with those clever Disneyland lines that wind and wind and you think "yay! I'm almost there" only to turn another bend until you finally get there.  Fortunately for my entertainment people actually (and willingly) wear their swimming attire in the lobby.

No, folks, sorry to report, there wasn't much in the way of eye candy for the ladies.  Not even one hot lifeguard.  There were a few nice racks on display,on which I placed a keen and nonchalant eye exam to determine if they were fake like Bonnie and Clyde, or were they the real deal.  It's a fun game I like to play, and now the hubs and I play it together!  Lucky guy.

As soon as we checked in we headed straight for the water park, which was a mistake for a number of reasons.  First, when we got to the water park after another Disneyland-like trek UP the stairs, around the bend, through the doors, to grandmother's house, then back down the stairs, past all the lockers and to the teeny tiny itty bitty little locker room to change.  

One bench, three showers, two sinks and four crappers.  Really.  Given the size and availability of restroom facilities there's no wonder that there were a few ARPs in the wave pool (Accidental Rectal Projectile).  But what I really want to know is why were the ARPs ONLY in the wave pool and nowhere else?  Guess it's that much fun.

I'm not a germaphobe, specifically because I have two children.  Nothing teaches you to relax your standards like a seven and nine year old kids that refuse to wash their hands, and constantly puts them in their pants (and nose, and several other available orifices).

That said, the bodily fluid factor tested even my iron will against germ fears.  ARPs aside, there was the pile of vomit sitting at the top of the walk-in to the wave pool (seriously, it's ALWAYS the wave pool), which sadly wasn't enough for the lifeguards to empty the pool.  So POOP: clear the pool, we've got a floater! VOMIT: Eh, no worries, we'll just clean it up.  EW.

The one that I didn't see, but heard ALL ABOUT was the poor woman whose monthly bill arrived, and she had no idea, but yeah, everyone else did.  I like to think if I had seen it I would have said something, but likely I would have turned away to hide my inevitable dry heave.

One of the few saving graces of this festering germ pool was the bar.  Oh the wonderful adult beverage dispensary, how I love you so.  Two margaritas in and I was feeling no pain.  I was barely feeling the concrete beneath my feet to be honest.  At least a little hooch reduced my inhibitions enough to feel confident in my bathing suit. 

That's another fun part of the public water park, clearly the scent of chlorine coupled with the eleventy thousand screaming kids, reduces and eliminates any concern over what parts of your body might be hanging out.  Thankfully I never saw anyone's Snuffleupagus, but I saw several near misses that can only be described as wardrobe malfunctions.  How you don't realize the cups in your 'kini are two sizes too small is beyond me.  And please, the only cheeks I need to see are the ones on your face.

Our second mistake was not checking out our hotel room location BEFORE we hit the water park.  By the time we got back there, all rooms were full and I discovered that we were, of course, on the first floor, by the door.  Also near all the noise that went on ALL FREAKING NIGHT LONG as children participated in the resort wide scavenger hunt that borders on extorsion, for the cost to participate and even purchase the little magic wand thingy required a second mortgage on our home.

So of course I was awake all night long.  I woke up tired & hungry and discovered my third mistake: not bringing my own food.  If you don't know me, I'm a little OCD about what I put in my food hole, and there was nothing even close to what I would consider acceptable fare for even my children to eat.  And what food there was would require me to sell one of my kidneys in order to afford it.

All that aside, the experience was certainly "an experience" and the water park really took the cake.  I'm not sure that Maude will ever willingly go back, even after the enticing 50% off your next stay coupon the general manager sent me upon reading my feedback survey.  You didn't think I wouldn't say anything did you?  I'm here to help, that's what I keep telling myself.