|The beautiful East Canyon Resort Condominiums|
We stood in the waning light. Frozen.
Not because of our temperature, but because of what we saw.
Seconds earlier, we were making our way back from visiting the bubbly outdoor hot tub, beach towels circling our torso, poised to mop up the water our swimming suits were holding hostage. Under normal conditions, if I was standing under a cosmic canopy in the biting March mountain air, dripping wet with saturated spandex covering only 1/4th of my body, I would be shivering. And complaining. But tonight my liver and heart, having been sufficiently marinated, rewarded me with with uncommon warmth. I was grateful for that.
We had been contentedly walking along the sidewalk, when Mr. Fish suddenly blurted a firm directive.
"Stop! Look!.. There are three pairs of raccoon eyes right over there."
Sure enough, across the parking lot about 75 yards away, were three pairs of shining, glow-in-the-dark orbs. They looked just like cat eyes in the dark. Only more menacing. They pierced. And stared. They were frozen, too. Apparently we looked quite menacing ourselves, with our bare hairy legs and all.
Earlier, we had seen a live raccoon, climbing from our garbage just outside the condo kitchen window. The critter appeared quite smug having found a bonanza of sausage scraps. So, we knew we were imposing at their resort.
Immediately, as it usually does in precarious situations, our conversation turned to survival tactics.
"What would you do if those raccoons ran toward us?" Mr. Fish prompted.
I took a quick survey of our location. We were walled in with two-story condos on either side, and fences lining the cement path. To make a successful get-away, I would either have to dust off my
"I would try to kick them away" said my manly hunk of protecting love.
"Kick them away?" I answered timidly. "But what about their...."
"I know." Mr. Fish butted in. "They have razor sharp teeth, and claws that could tear your flesh into...."
His voice faded away as we silently finished this sentence in our own imaginations.
"But they would have to be rabid to attack us like that" Mr. Fish confidently taught.
"Uh...huh." I reticently agreed, still scoping out possible escape routes, and thinking what I would use to stop the bleeding on my heroic husband's sacrificial leg.
My 'possibles' were interrupted by the chattering of our sixteen year old twins who stayed behind to take advantage of the sauna and were now catching up to us.
"Ssshhhh" Mr. Fish urgently whispered. "We are watching some raccoons."
"Where?" they responded with an excited urge. "Let's try to catch one!" Which is their standard ambition for anything we see, including out-of-town female youth groups.
"Right over there, in front of that garage on the condo across the parking lot. There are three of them. One in front and two smaller ones behind. They are sitting still, just staring at us." Mr. Fish muffled quietly so as not to disturb the other hoards of wild animals that could have been silently lurking and poised to pounce.
Then Andy, with his 16 year old retinas, said in a polite and heavily restrained smirk... "Uh.... mom and dad....those are grates on the garage door, just reflecting the light from inside the garage. That's why they are standing so still."
At least I think that last sentence is what he said. Hard to tell between the roar of laughter that ensued from the sauna boys.
Mr. Fish and I, doubtful of this absurd accusation, took a few tentative steps closer to confirm OUR hypotheses, and subsequently took a few steps closer to a remaining lifetime of humiliation.....
......because the sauna boys and their 16 year old memories won't let us live this one down.
Keep swimming and... remember to have an annual eye exam.
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In other news:
Congrats to BONNIE who said, "I got it. Easier than the others. Thanks for these fun games. Sad to see them end." You are the winner in our final "What's the Difference" game. Please email me (link above) and I will send your prize. And thanks to all who played.