Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where we promise on our honor that this will be the last Chesapeake Bay adventure of the year!
Have you ever gone skinny dipping? I have. It's fun. Tee hee.
Having gone skinny dipping in the past prepares you to do it at any time. It's like riding a bike, you never forget how.
Last Friday morning the mighty Chesapeake was churning like a water park, whitecaps on the waves from a stiff northerly breeze. Family Johnson set out for a little walk along the shore line. All four of us, just as happy as ... well ... as two stressed out parents and a couple of nutty kids can be.
It was high tide, and the waves were crashing against the swimming pier fit to bust the boards right off it.
So, what possesses The Spare, my younger daughter? She climbs part way down the ladder on the swimming pier. Far enough that the furious waters snatch her flip flop and fling it seaward.
Family Johnson stands watching Spare's last usable footwear being tossed like Captain Ahab's boat. Papa Johnson is not amused. Every wave sends the bobbing shoe farther from shore.
Anne tells Papa Johnson and The Heir to walk on. They do, slowly. When they're out of earshot, it's Anne to the rescue!
Off with the garments, down into the briny deep! Tourists and fundie Christians watching? Phooey, who cares? It's impossible to find flip flops for sale after the Fourth of July. Spare needs that shoe.
Down the ladder Anne descends, shedding the final layer as she goes. Into the drink she ventures, jellyfish be damned. Shoe is grabbed, flung to Spare. Anne regains ladder, asks for certain garments, gets them, deftly returns them to her girlish figure.
Out of earshot, Mr. Johnson is predicting a speedy divorce. But he softens when Spare gives him a mockingbird feather as a peace offering.
Moral of the story: If you haven't yet learned to skinny dip, you'd better do it soon. You never know when you might need this essential skill.