Being 36 weeks pregnant, I thought nothing of driving down there with my pants half-pulled-down to take the pressure off my lower belly. I was wearing a long top and no skin was showing or anything scandalous like that. It was just necessary.
So when we pulled into the hotel and the only option was to valet the car, I hastily locked the doors, rolled down my window and told the valet that we "needed a minute" before we were ready to get out of the car. Then I waited for him to get far enough away from the car that I could pull my pants all the way back up before unlocking the doors.
Once again fully wearing my pants, I headed with my mom and Emerson to explore a little bit before we were going to meet Joy. The valet pointed us toward Pirate Island and there we discovered Paddleboat Joe and his fleet (of paddleboats). Paddleboat Joe was an older black gentleman who seemed born for his job: quick-witted and engaging, delighted by everyone who walked by.
It was clear that we had to go for a ride.
If driving a car with pants on was too much lower belly pressure then forget about pedal-powering a small watercraft while wearing those same pants. Luckily, my mother was happy to do the legwork while Emerson and I took turns steering us into the edges of the channel which wended its way around the hotel property, never more than about 18 inches deep.
Eric arrived about halfway through our paddleboat adventure and didn't hesitate to jump on board. I moved to the backseat and chatted with a caterpillar who was hitch-hiking while Eric gave Gail some needed support on the pedals.
When we pulled back into the dock, Paddleboat Joe had a lot to say about our having gained a passenger on the short ride. Eric told Paddleboat Joe that we had offered him $5 to help us pedal.
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