Wet n Wild and My Lips Be Popping

I want to love humanity, but humans make it so hard sometimes.

So it’s Sunday funday in our little household and we decided to live it up and do a little boat tour today.

To be clear, we have NEVER had great experiences with boat tours.

One boat tour featured satanists and small children (Berlin). In Bangkok, we had hoped for a beautiful evening tour replete with dinner and drinks - but decided to get off the boats seconds before it left the dock because WE KNEW WE WERE GOING TO GET SICK FROM THE DISGUSTING FOOD!

Nevertheless, we bravely embarked upon a rather small vessel today with a captain and his one-man crew as storm clouds brewed above us. It’s just an hour-long cruise, they said. You guys will be fine, they said.

30 minutes into the cruise, Zeus comically ripped open the heavens as sheets of rain poured down on our 12 person boat. In all fairness, the boat featured a flimsy plastic roof that could be disassembled in under a minute, according to the captain. We were shielded from most of the elements - until we weren’t. You see, our tour route required us to travel underneath a bridge that was too short for the boat - meaning that the only cover we had from the elements had to be taken down for us to end the tour.

The captain, his crew, and an overzealous tourist attempted to take down the tarp roof but were unfortunately so unsuccessful that the Captain “parked” our boat underneath a somewhat taller bridge until the rain subsided. At this point, everyone was soaked - my husbands’ shirt was see-through - and we were all ready to get the hell off the boat. The captain was clearly doing what he could - and promised to get us out as soon as he could.

Step to the front of the stage, Basic Becky.

You see, Basic Becky was visibly agitated the entire time - understandable given the circumstances. But do you know I had to stop myself from audibly clutching my pearls when she said that she was afraid of missing her 4pm flight.

It was 12:45pm . . . in Tampa.

For those who haven’t been here, let me tell you about my airport experience. I walked through the front door, went through security, and had a cocktail in my hand within ten minutes.

But okay . . . sure . . . you’re worried about your flight that departs in 3 hours :-/

And if you’re that worried - why go out on a boat to begin with? Y’all couldn’t just go to Fudruckers?

Luckily, the captain and his crew got us out of there fifteen minutes later - but mama was soaked to the bone.

So my husband and I are wet, hungry and in desperate need of libations.

A cursory google search yielded a cute movie theater that served drinks and food with recliners. Yes, please!

So we get there - we are exhausted and all we want to do is enjoy our chicken tenders, french fries and bottom shelf well drink (it was purple).

Everyone is eating. This is normal. I’ve been to countless restaurants and heard people eating (gross) but it has never bothered me . . .

Until today.

This child, who sat at least five seats down from me on the same aisle, ate a single quesadilla over the course of 30 minutes and smacked his lips so hard, I could hear the final breath of a thousand busty, genetically modified chickens as they succumbed to the pedestrian death inside the mouth of this young man - someone who had obviously never been taught to eat with his mouth closed

But it gets better.

This child - 13, maybe 14, sat betwixt what looked like his mother and grandmother (or it may have been his elderly-looking auntie). You mean to tell me that these village elders sat directly next to this young man and did not immediately discipline him? Is this okay in 2019? Do we just eat with our mouthes agape whilst making noises that compete with the sound level of the actual movie we all paid good money to see?!

My dear husband knows that this sound in particular triggers me. It is so bad, that if you do it, I will simply refuse to eat with you . . . ever! I have family members who are like this and I have literally not had a meal with them since puberty.

My dear husband - who knows my triggers - asked if we should switch seats. I told him no - not only because I truly didn’t want to cause any more disruption especially given this unabated cacophony to my left - but because there was literally no seat far enough away from this wretch of a human being to be spared the raucous chewing, smacking, slirping and yes, gulping.

America, we can do better. I do not have children. And I certainly do not know, from personal experience, how hard it is to raise them in 2019. But damn it, my children WILL NOT SMACK THEIR FOOD!

Yours truly,

The realest mommy dearest