Dear Kalen,
Thanks for taking me to “shoot the hooch.” I cannot believe I grew up in Atlanta and never did this before.**
I almost feel like I need to turn in my Southern girl card.
But not quite, as I adapted like a champ.
Ratty visor? Check.
Brewery coozies? Check.
Cooler filled with beer? Check.
Bungee cords to tie our tubes together? Check.
Bikini to get some sun (even though I know better)? Check.
The sun was hot. The beer and the water were cold.
It was a perfect day.
Perfect until I fell in, that is. (No, apparently I CAN’T reach your speaker carabiner.)
So there I was, dangling in the water, contemplating how best to get back in the tube when something touched my leg.
SOMETHING TOUCHED MY LEG.
My human brain knew it was just river weed.
My lizard brain lost it.
I started scream laughing. You started scream laughing. At me.
Here’s a dramatic re-enactment of me, slippery from sunscreen and still screeching, trying to get back into the innertube.
In addition to making sure to stay in the tube next time, we also will have to do a better job of tying you to the cooler float so you don’t end up in someone else’s pod, flouting social distancing expectations.
Thanks for the adventure. Let’s do it again soon!
Love and ‘hoochee kisses,
Beth
* Thank you, Alan Jackson.
** Edit: A friend reminded me I DID shoot the hooch. In college. While completely trashed. So that doesn’t count, as I don’t remember.
Observe and report 
That looks like fun!
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We laughed SO MUCH!
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That must have felt great!
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Yes! And we really needed it. Everyone needs it nowadays.
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Definitely.
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