Jusssst sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful trip,
that started from this tropic port,
(aka; a deep muddy incline under a busy overpass)
aboard this tiny ship.
(Or in our case, a giant homemade inflatable raft consisting of a bunch of inner-tubes tied together.)
The mate was a mighty sailin' man,
the skipper brave and sure,
twelve passengers set sail that day,
(7 adults, one 10 year old, 2 toddlers, and 2 unborn babies)
for a four hour tour,
("How long will it take to float from County Line to Snyder Park?"
"An hour or 2 tops.")
A FOUR HOUR tour.
The waters started getting rough,
our homemade boat was tossed,
despite the cell phone GPS,
the Courters, we were lost,
the Courters, we were lost.
So this was the tale of us castaways,
we were there for a long long time.
We had to make the best of things,
it was an uphill climb.
We lost Gatorades and tennis shoes,
but managed not to freeze,
the toddlers came away unscathed,
but for an irrational fear of trees.
In the cast of Gilligan's Island, our family is short one Professor.
So the next time we try tubing,
information we should seek.
County Line is on the Mad River,
Snyder Park is on Buck Creek.
Snyder Park is on BUCK CREEK!!!!
In the cast of Gilligan's Island, our family is short one Professor.
And one of these days, my eyes are gonna roll straight out of my head.
*A huge THANK YOU to Nick's dad, Jim, for the ride from the highway back to our cars...and an apology for kinda being in-lawed to us forever.
