Monday, October 10, 2011

Come On In! The Water's Fine!

[caption id="attachment_1419" align="alignleft" width="204" caption="Not us, but a picture of the pools."][/caption]

While we were in Colorado, my husband and I visited Mt. Princeton Hot Springs for some time alone and relaxation. It's this gorgeous facility, built into the mountains (duh), with two large outdoor pools - one for soaking and for swimming, and it's all set next to the Arkansas river.

The hot springs either dump into the river or bubble up next to it, I'm not sure, but you can soak in the hot water in these small natural pools formed by rocks right outside.

The river rushes past you on one side, the mountains rise up all around. Birds fly over head.  It's just you and nature.

And, you know, the people who totally jump into your pool.

If you've met my husband, then you know that he is not exactly a 'people' person. He likes his space.


So, imagine his absolute horror when, after sliding into the perfect pool, adjusting the rocks and soaking up the quiet (we have three loud, busy children. Did you know that?) a shadow fell across our oasis and a (perfectly lovely, I'm sure) woman said, "How's the water in your pool?" as she slid her body into our pool. Our  small pool.

I may have stared. With my mouth wide open. It may have closed with an audible snap.

Thankfully both my husband and I were wearing sunglasses so eye contact could not be made. Of course, I wasn't even chancing a look at his face. No way.

She chatted us up a bit, and honestly, she did seem lovely. But I wanted time to sit quitely. And did I mention the pools are small? And that we are in bathing suits? In small pools? Anyway.

Five minutes later. Another shadow. Her husband.

[caption id="attachment_1418" align="alignright" width="300" caption="This? Is how he got into the pool. Next to my husband. *cue laughter*"][/caption]

In slow motion:

Hello (echo echo echo)

Slides into pool, lays down on his back, head propped up on a rock, chin deep in the our perfect water.

His naked thigh brushes against my husbands naked thigh.

I choke.

It may have been the high light of the trip.

I managed to extract us from the situation about five minutes later. The conversation as my husband and I were climbing the rocks back up to the main facility went something like this:

Did they just  . . .


But did they just  . .