Wet & Wild
Aging & Attitude
My most embarrassing moment occurred the summer of 1986 on Long Beach Island, a well know vacation spot for families from the New York, New Jersey and Philadelphia area. The drive along the Garden State Parkway to exit 63A and over the Manahawkin Bay Bridge, affectionately called The Causeway by locals, is a true Jersey experience. The unique bridge lights, famed Strand of Pearls, are memorable viewed at night.
Called LBI, the island known for its beach umbrellas, sand castles, and surfers, has no boardwalk, and is minus the frenzy of other nearby beach communities like Seaside Heights, famous for Snookie and the TV show “Jersey Shore.”
My husband says his most embarrassing moment was asking a cousin when her baby was due and she responded, “I’m not pregnant.”
His experience pales next to mine.
Makes you wonder what is behind embarrassment.
My children and husband watched the incident.
In 1986, my son was eleven, my daughter, nine, and me; I was thirty-eight years old. I do not know the age of the pimpled face teen.
The week was uneventful, no rain or black flies, and the mosquitoes only came out at night. Our friends and their two kids visited a few nights, and we went to the Wet & Wild slide in Beach Haven.
Recently, I Googled Wet & Wild on Eighth and Bay Ave, and it is renamed the Thundering Surf Water Slide, but the giant pink bubble gum colored slide remains the same.
The kids enjoyed Wet & Wild so much we went back. My husband, not up for the wet and wild experience, joined other parents in the gallery to cheer and applaud when the ride ended. I was eager and grabbed a rubber magic carpet for the ride.
For the vacation, I purchased a hot turquoise one-piece swimsuit; halter-top, knotted behind the neck and perfect for swimming.
After several carpet rides, I was starting to enjoy myself, you know let loose, when the embarrassing moment happened. To this day I am thankful my husband was standing in the gallery, keen-eyed.
I landed in the bottom pool with the heavy magic carpet on my head, choking on water. My eyes opened to Pimple Boy staring at me like he is stoned.
I managed to remove the mat from my head and stand, then heard a voice call my name. Once my husband had my attention he pointed to his chest. I looked down. Yes, I was fully exposed and playing to a full crowd, about twenty people.
Pimple Boy popped more zits and I scurried to hide and put things back in.
I sort refuge behind the stairs, where my two children where hiding, and exclaimed out of breath, “The most embarrassing thing just happened.”
In whispered tones, they mouthed, “We know, Mom.”
I wonder what Pimple Boy’s most embarrassing moment is.
What is your most embarrassing moment?