Mom

   It's 12 o'clock on a hot June day.  I'm reading, Mom is somewhere doing something, and for some reason, I think it's a good idea to go kayaking right now.  Looking back now, mistakes were made.  Mom being the compliant person she is, says she would love to go kayaking.  So we load everything up, tell my sister we'll be back in a little bit, down ourselves in bug spray, and that's it.
   When we pull up to the drop off, small waves are sloshing against it.  I don't know why I was surprised, anyone would know that if you go to the water in the middle of the day, the tide will be on the move.  But we went out anyway.
   Once we get away from the house and out into the bigger part of the bayou, it immediately starts to feel like we are kayaking on a treadmill.  It doesn't help that Mom has the old broken paddle that doesn't stay together on its own.  She yells out, "Jillianne, what part of this is enjoyable?"  The burn starts to come over us.  Even I start to complain a bit.  Here we are, paddling as fast as our bodies can paddle, and yet we're going nowhere.  It's not like the other times I've gone when we could just mosey along and make it in excellent time.  No, now we have to exert every once of strength we have just to travel three feet.
   After a while Mom says, "Man, if we did this everyday, we'd have Susan Lucci arms in no time."  I laugh and agree but make a point that we will never kayak during this time ever again.
   We make a dash to Alligator Alley and she shrieks, "NO! Sweetie, I don't want you kayaking through this ever again! This place filled with gators.  Look at this water! No no no.  I can't believe we're going this way."  I try to calm her down by telling her to look up at the beautiful canopy of trees, but moms will be moms.
   We get to a point where we're ready to turn around, but when we do, a wicked thing happens..
   One would think that the moment we turned around we would go extra fast because the current would be pushing us along.  But no, it was as if the moment we turned around, the tide did as well.  Going back was not any easier than before.  It was just as horrific.  I'm apologizing to Mom the entire way, but she's done complaining.  She's just trying her best to hold the paddle together while booking it back to the house.  Not many words were said, there was just the sound of heavy breathing and the waves colliding with the kayaks.
   I know I ruined the idea of kayaking for my mother.  But once the horrible memories of that trip fade away, we'll head back out, in the evening, and kayaking's perfect reputation will be redeemed.