Right out of a sitcom

This weekend, Justin spent the whole weekend studying and writing for his graduate paper that’s due Tuesday, which meant I was free to go and party! (Note: I would have been free to do that no matter what Justin was doing, it just sounds better that way for storytelling purposes)

After some discussion earlier in the week, Ashley and I decided to go to Hamilton Pool – it is this natural watering hole about 40 minutes West of Austin (between Bee Caves and Dripping Springs). You hike about a quarter of a mile down a fairly steep hill and can either go to the left – where you can continue hiking to the Pernadales River – or take a right towards the watering hole.

I’m not going to lie (my new catch phrase if you’ve been around me the last few weeks), it’s gorgeous. Literally, this amazing, God-created goodness for city folk like myself.

We got there super early, and stayed for about an hour – once people start coming, the area gets a tad crowded and kids are yelling, ruining the serenity of it all.

So, um, we decided to spend the next three hours laying out the country club. Total 180 right? About three weeks ago, one of my friend’s, Kim, told Ashley and me that we look iridescent. So we stayed out about an hour too long at the pool and our backs are red as some random metaphor I can’t think of at the moment.

To make our backs a little worse, today we decided to go hike the Greenbelt and then layout (only on our backs) at Barton Springs. We’re really asking for it. And apparently this 10-year-old walking by us thought we were too.

I’m laying there with my eyes closed, and I hear this voice from in front of me say, “You know doin’ that causes skin cancer, right?”

I open one of my eyes, look around, find the girl through my squinting, and respond, “The key is moderation – if you don’t do this all of the time and use sun screen, you’ll be fine.”

I thought, honestly, that would shut the kid up. I mean, how hypocritical of her – standing there, in the same sun as I am – telling me I’m going to get skin cancer.

And then she’s like, “I’m serious. You’re going to get skin cancer.” At this point, I’m looking around for her parents so she can leave me to my sun/skin cancer.

I politely smile at her and lower my head back onto the towel, hoping the gesture will signal her to try the next group of sunbathers to my right.

“Maybe this will cool you off!” And the kid, out of nowhere, pulls a water gun and sprays me. Then she turns and sprays Ashley, walks to the sunbathers next to me, and sprays them too.

I have to admit, the whole thing was funny, except for the fact I would never allow my child to do spray random people while lecturing them on skin cancer.

At the same time, that water sure felt good on my sunburn.