Yesterday, Doug and I loaded up the girl scouts and Noah and headed up to the TN/NC border. While I bathed, got dressed, got all the children bathed and dressed, packed the diaper bag and packed towels and clean clothes for everyone, Doug got himself dressed and listened to station 101 on the xm radio. Did I mention that before we got married, Doug was an adrenaline junkie who frequented the mountains for land and water adventures? Well, he was and I think that the music choice was his version of a joke about our whitewater guides. Let’s just say that I don’t think they do any random ‘testing’ on the employees at the summer rafting companies any more than they do on the employees at the winter tubing companies. As bohemian as the guides were, living in tents behind their workplace, you would think the women would look like the professors in women’s studies classes. You know, the ones that wear skirts and no matter what they are talking about, you find yourself staring at their legs and wondering why they don’t wear pants to cover all that hair. No, our guide clearly preferred a much more European style of body hair despite the fact that she hadn’t done anything to ‘maintain’ that style for a while. I’m just saying, if others can tell your natural hair color, your shorts are rolled down waaay too low. The guides were funny and entertaining and completely professional while working except for the obvious flirting and foreplay among the male and female tour guides. It was a great way to spend a Saturday and I want to try a higher class river without the scouts along. Oh, and with some appropriate shoes. I had no shoes to wear, so I borrowed some and my entire day was spent like this:
1. Check Noah
2. Check shoes
3. Talk to people on boat
4. Check shoes
5. Repeat

Then again, I’m sure Doug saw the day from a completely different perspective.