Nothing much happened; Suzanne and I did not sword fight in full armor at the chocolate fountain, for instance. That said, I went to visit the restroom, and when I turned on the hot water to wash my hands, I realized a very pertinant truth about Texas…they say everything is bigger here, I say everything is hotter, depending on where you are.
If you happen to visit a restroom in Texas, keep in mind extremes…in other words, it’s going to either be the coldest your hands have ever been, or so hot, you do what I did yesterday….you don’t yelp, or shriek, or scream when boiling hot water hits your hands, which I had fully plunged into the water, because you are not a pussy.
No, you whip your hands out as fast as possible, thus flinging said boiling water onto your undefended, startled, and disapproving crotch, which is clad in thin khaki shorts.
Then you do an entertaining (my fourth son was rolling) dance while your crotch registers it’s disapproval, wondering somewhere in the back of your mind if you will be foregoing hedge trimming, so to speak, for the rest of your life.
After recovering, you walk out the door, chagrined and grateful you, your hands, and your crotch made it out relatively unscathed.
Sure, you look like you pissed yourself, but I’m so used to doing shit like this, it failed to really get to me.
Moral of the story is, watch yourself if you visit Texas. From shivering uncontrollably in the sub-zero temps the stores here sport knowing that summer is coming and it’ll be as hot as some bathrooms keep their water, to doing the my naughty bits are burning dance, there is only one thing that’s guaranteed.
Your visit to Texas, no matter when, how, or where you take it?
It’s going to be memorable!