This is a true story but to protect the innocent I will call the main characters “Mom” and “Dad.” This may or may not be their real names.
Last Thursday before all the small town water festival excitement began, I was having dinner with my grandma (you know we call her Gigi), my uncle, the boys and “Mom” and “Dad” outside at our local lake side restaurant. It had been sort of a grey and yucky day but was shaping up to be a nice evening, so I said, “Beloved family, what a beautiful evening. Let us go together to the lake shore and take my father-in-law’s pontoon out for a leisurely drive” . . . or something like that. They all said, “Yes, Lisa! You brilliant thing! Riparian entertainment is just what we need!” . . . or something like that.
So we gathered Brent at water festival coronation rehearsal and off we set to the pontoon.
Now before we go any further, you must know that “Mom” is not big into water sports. She is particularly not a fan of water on the face. If I search back in my mind, I can gather a misty memory of her lounging on a floatie, or paddling a canoe, but given a long list of summertime entertainment I think “water sports” will not be at the top of the list.
You must also know before we go any further that “Dad” has booked them on a cruise to Alaska in a few weeks, something “Mom” has said in the past (and I know she may try to deny this, but I have witnesses) she would not do.
So here we go: Gigi, “Dad,” the boys, my uncle, “Mom,” Brent and me on my father-in-law’s pontoon. Now his pontoon is not the shabbiest thing on the lake, but it’s by no means the largest either, and we were sort of cheating having that many people on the pontoon because we were counting the boys as one person.
Off into the sunset. Off for a tour of lake homes. Off in a wonderful bonding experience.
When we got as far as the fancy schmancy summer resort about 5K from town, Brent and I looked at the ever darkening sky and agreed we needed to turn around, which he did.
Into a wave.
With “Mom” and Preschooler D sitting right next the sign that reads, “No persons should sit here while the boat is in motion.”
I should also mention, in case you do not know, that the front pontoons on a pontoon boat are pointed like v’s. It makes it easier for the heavy pontoon to slice through the water, but they also act like little anchors if they get under the water — which is exactly what happened at that moment.
To my horror, the front of our water vessel started to sink with “Mom” and D in the front. In my most commanding take-charge voice, I shouted out, “Brent!!! We’re sinking!!!” Brent in his most commanding take-charge voice said, “Hey, ‘Mom.’ Better move to the back.
She did. The pontoon returned to normal. “Dad” dug a life jacket out of storage with visions of non-refundable cruise money flashing before his eyes, and we returned to shore just as it started to storm.
Ah! Fun times!