I think my husband is trying to kill me.
“How about we do ATV’s in Aruba?”
“umm, ok.”
Let me back up by saying I am not a danger girl. I don’t like roller coasters (even the stupid Goofy’s Barnstorming at WDW) and I don’t really like fast (except if I’m driving the car). So roaring all over the “bad lands” of Aruba while trying to keep up and not toss off myself or the child hanging on to my back is not my idea of a great adventure.
It was rough to say the least. Rocky paths (roads would be too generous), a vehicle that pulls a little to the left, and a guide hot dogging it on two wheels certainly made me long for my Kindle and a beach chair.
It was nice that our group turned out to be just the four of us with the guide, so I wasn’t the weenie holding up a big group but then again it made it much more obvious I was the one.
At least with the guide and Marc being so far ahead of me I had no witnesses to getting stuck in a gully, falling off and making a lovely bruise on my calf, stopping to fix Ray’s helmet and stalling the ATV.
I think the whole time Marc was having fun, I was thinking pleasedon’tdiepleasedon’tdiepleasedon’tdie and savethechildrensavethechildren.
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You amaze me. I can’t imagine you doing that, but then I can’t imagine you giving up all the luxuries of home. I’m glad you’re taking the chance. I’ve had so many regrets because I was afraid to take the chance.
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