True Story

{April 6, 2010}   Sprink Break – The Middle Years

True Story:  I have never thought about exercising when on vacation. Never.

I live at the beach. And I can’t even check my Black Berry for one minute while driving, without running over a bunch of  “over-achievers” running up and down the beach road. WTF?

Second trip down Spring Break Memory Lane

Memory 1:  Riding in the first ever “Mini Van”, my friend’s parents would take out all the seats and rig up a 12″ TV and VCR on the floor of the van. All of us kids would lie on a blanket and watch movies. It took 2 1/2 movies to get to the beach.

True Story:  My friend’s parents would be arrested today for not strapping us in.

Memory 2:  Sun burning myself so badly there were blisters, and I couldn’t take a shower or put clothes on my body.

True Story:  Our parents would be arrested today for not lathering SPF on us.

Memory 3:  It had to be Spring Break when out to a “fancy seafood dinner”  my younger sisters talked Mom into letting them get their own entrees instead of splitting, or ordering from the children’s menu. Inevitably, my sisters could not eat a 1/4 of the portion served them. ( Mom’s instinctively know this?) So, every time Mom turned her head, they dumped fettuccine alfredo between the cracks in the old, nautical wood table, till it was piled on the floor for the waitress to sweep up.

Memory 4:  I was swimming in the indoor pool with my friend on this particular spring break. I went to the bathroom and saw a spot in my bathing suit. That’s right. It was spring break. I remember it like it was yesterday. No woman will ever forget.

Memory 5:  It had to be spring break when my younger sisters were swimming in the gulf of Mexico and suddenly became over-run by a school of tiny fish. The fish ended up in their bathing suits. They ran screaming to the shore, both pulling little fish out of their suits… When L stopped and looked up at B… Horrified.

B:  What?!?!

L just pointed…. To her… GIRL PARTS!

She looked down… And there was a little fish tail sticking out.

The best part? She reached down, grabbed the tail, and squeezed the guts out of that fish.

He was not welcome there.

Memory 6:  24 hours before we left town I was packed and ready to go skiing. I had been looking forward to this ski trip for months. Dad was taking us somewhere in the Rockies. I was trying on my ski suit when my Mom came in my room.

Mom:  I’m sorry Ashley. You need to unpack your ski bag.

Me:  What?!? Why?!?

Mom:  Your Dad hurt his back or something. I think you are going to Mexico instead.

Me:  Mexico?  Hmm.

Serendipity:  At 11 I was a certified diver trained by a really neat guy, Hermon. He was so well-skilled in scuba diving, he wore no weight belt and no air in his BC and could maintain his buoyancy in any depth of water.

He took me on my first dive in 20 feet of ocean water and taught me how to do lung push-ups on the ocean floor.

True Story:  We smuggled a rain stick in the United States (customs would have made us open it) on the way home.

How you ask?

You just need 1 puking, pooping, 11-year-old with Montezuma’s Revenge who refuses to swallow medicine. Easy as cake. They let you waltz right through.

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