guest post: christin from with a c.h.

Last, but certainly not least, in my list of guest bloggers this week is my homegirl, Christin. We're real-life friends, did you know? Approximately half of my time spent texting is with her (the other half is with my sister, in case you were wondering). She helps me make important life decisions, like whether or not I need a third curtain panel for my windows or which dress to buy. And she helps me through less frivolous, more serious things. Girl is great and beyond hilarious. Get to know her.
Hi everyone. I'm Christin from with a C.H. and I could not be more thrilled to post for Alex today while she is taking a vacay from the blogging.

Since she gave me zero parameters for this post, I feel sorry for you all. Kidding. I figured that there was no better time than to talk about one of my near-death vacation experiences. Yes, there has been more than one. AND more than one on the same trip. I have the best luck of all time.
I was 12 or 13, I honestly can't remember, and we were on family vacation in the ever-so-lovely Cabo San Lucas. My Dad is quite the adventurer and my younger brother and I were being nothing short of seriously annoying about going in the Ocean so he finally gave in. My Mom stayed poolside with her liquor and read a book.

My brother and I were a bit hesitant to go out into the open waters but my Dad was in a few feet ahead of us and kept waving us out "come out further guys, come on!", he was shouting. Then all of a sudden, he looked at us and our eyes turned the size of silver dollars.

What we didn't know is that there was a tropical storm across the bay and the double red flags that say "hey assholes, stay out of the damn water" had blown down. So we were in for a real treat.

My dad turned around and saw a 17-foot wave coming straight for us. He yelled at us to run at which point I took off like a bat out of hell. My chubby brother was bitching about "being tired" so he and my dad had to dive into the waves.

Meanwhile, on shore, I was taken out at the feet by a breaking wave, slammed down hard onto the beach and thrown down the shoreline. I managed to take a grown man out with my legs during my journey.

I only sustained a few serious cuts and bruises but I was okay. The emotional wounds took years to heal. My dad was just glad he was going back up to the pool with both children and we didn't tell my mom about this episode for a few months. She would have shit.

I hope that you all don't almost die on vacation because your father is an idiot.

1 comment:

  1. That looks like a really fun slide! :)



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