Most people are NOT this bad at wave pools.

Mike has been recounting our fabulous adventures in Vegas for you, and to continue with that I’m going to tell you the story of how we drowned. Don’t worry! As Mike said, it didn’t stick. I think that means we’re immortal. Or that we’re so bad at everything that we can’t even drown properly. One of those.

Mandalay Bay has a really awesome pool area. There’s a wave pool, a regular pool, a lazy river, and ton of lounge chairs on sand so you actually feel like you’re at the beach. Also, BOOZE. Lots and lots of booze. It’s my version of heaven. The pools especially come in handy when it’s 104 degrees out, aka so hot that your organs start to feel like they're boiling inside your body. So Mike and I developed a fantastic little routine to get a tan and stay cool:

Step 1: Lay on your back. People-watch through your sunglasses.
Step 2: Cool off in the pool!
Step 3: Lay on your stomach. Read your Kindle. [You can’t really people watch from this angle because the chairs are so close together. If you look up you have a direct line of sight to the groin of the guy in the chair behind you. Awkward. This is why having a Kindle/book is important.]
Step 4: Cool off in the pool!

It was a pretty fool-proof plan. Except we forgot to account for the drowning.

The wave pool didn’t look terribly intense, and it wasn’t our first time at this particular rodeo, so we strolled in with perhaps more confidence than we should have. This is always our downfall.

We waded into the pool, enjoying the cool water and easing our way in at a leisurely pace. That was, until some angry lifeguards were all, “HEY! GET BEHIND THE BLUE LINE IF YOU’RE GOING TO BE IN HERE!” Because APPARENTLY we were supposed to fly in the pool at warp speed to get behind this silly “line” immediately after entering the water. I mean, do I resemble Michael Phelps in ANY way? No? Then why on EARTH would you expect that I can swim that fast?

We picked up the pace, trying to get behind the line before the waves started, but then we noticed the mass of people behind that line, waiting for the waves, and waiting to crush us in our moment of stupidity. Panic set in as everyone started yelling to us that we had better get out of the way, while making outrageous MOVE-THE-F***-OUT-THE-WAY hand motions. We frantically tried to increase our pace. Which? NOT easy when you’re walking through thigh-high water and you don’t happen to be an Olympic swimmer.

Then our ears filled with the sounds of rushing water. The waves were coming and we were STILL not to the magical “safe” line. I managed to get a little ahead of Mike. [Okay, I might have pushed him back to save myself. I’m not proud of that, but I panicked.]

The waves rushed at us and it wasn’t long before I lost my footing and fell on my butt, carried forward by the force of the waves. Mike was excited because he thought he had managed to stay on his feet. He was feeling quite proud of himself until the wave drove me into his back and he fell onto my lap. I’m sure it all looked EXTREMELY graceful to the crowd.

After we finished laughing hysterically [to keep from weeping out of embarrassment] Mike confessed that he didn’t know that it was me that had knocked him down and he had been terrified it was a total stranger. Although this story would have been MUCH more hilarious if he had landed in a stranger’s lap, the way it happened is so very Mike & Kayla.

Fast forward about twenty minutes.

After overcoming our earlier embarrassment, Mike and I were feeling quite daring. We found ourselves in the 6-7’ deep end of the pool. I’m not sure why either of us thought this was a good idea. I can only assume our state of stupidity was caused by far too much time in the sun.

Forgetting that he was not, in fact, 8 feet tall, Mike decided to stop treading water and simply stand on the floor of the pool with his hands in the air. I treaded water and looked on in confusion, but just figured he had wanted to cool off with his head in the water. But then when his hands remained above water, I wondered if that was his way of telling me that he was drowning. I contemplated whether or not he required rescue, when his hands disappeared and I saw him FIXING HIS HAIR UNDERWATER. At this point I was really confused. Is he drowning and just wants to make sure his hair looks good when he dies? WHAT DO I DO?

Finally, he resurfaced. I asked what the hell he had been doing and he said that he had gone underwater by mistake, but then realized he probably looked like he was drowning [which he WAS] but he would rather have drowned looking cool than have to go through the embarrassment of being rescued by a lifeguard. Fixing his hair was just his way of acting natural.

Yes. Natural. Because EVERYBODY fixes their coif while submerged for extensive periods of time in a 7 foot pool.

At this point we realized that our time in the desert sun was probably causing some sort of permanent brain damage, so we went and bought some yummy frozen alcoholic beverages, got drunk, and then spent an hour giggling in our hotel room.

Like I said, FABULOUS ADVENTURES IN VEGAS!