Last weekend, The Wife and I went wakeboarding with some friends on the Willamette River. We put the boat in the water just outside of Wilsonville, OR, at the Boones Ferry Marina, with six individuals on board: five adults and one (easily influenced) 9 year-old boy.
After several hours of wakeboarding and drinking PBR and Canadian Club whiskey, we started swimming and jumping off the stern. Front flips came next, until some jerk (me) decided to kick things up a notch by performing a graceless back flip. I have a foundationless and totally irrational fear of breaking my neck — I am convinced I will, at any moment, compress my spine like a telescope — so when I performed my back flip, I unwittingly shouted “Titties–titties–titties!” before hitting the water.
All of the adults laughed until the 9 year-old boy scaled the ladder, turned around and launched himself backward into the air like 60 pounds of deathwish.
His impression of me was spot-on, which is why I was informed by his parents I am no longer welcome on their boat.
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