April 24, 2004

My proudest accomplishment today was making Heather wet her pants in a thoroughly satisfying way. It wasn’t easy. I first took her down to the river, only to realize once we got there that we can only drift downstream on rainy days. The water that went up to my knees last Sunday barely covered my ankles today and the boat refused to float.

With a stick in my hand, I desperately tried to make the boat obey me, but I only managed to get stuck in the middle of the river. Unfortunately, my idea to ferry people down the river in a dinghy this summer was not as inspired as I first thought. And without current I had no way of making Heather wet her pants — she refused to get in the boat and get stuck on the rocks.

So I carried the boat on my shoulders like a cross all the way to Waterloo Park. There’s water there — a whole lake in fact! I walked with determination and jumped with my boat in the middle of oncoming traffic — nobody dares stop the Jesus-man with a boat.

“That’s awesome,” a girl said, wetting her pants as I passed by her lawn. People were clearly impressed not only by my boat, but also by my traffic-stopping skills.

We set the boat on water as soon as we got to the park, and since it was a clear day Heather jumped in first. She did so beautifully, without even making the boat flinch. And then I did what I came to Waterloo Park to do: I jumped in the rubber boat besides her, rocking the dinghy and making both of our asses wet. The water was satisfyingly freezing.

To warm us up, I pushed the boat out towards the open water with the giant stick I carried in my hand. Five minutes later, when the stick no longer touched the murky bottom, I deeply regretted not investing in a pair of paddles. We were making beautiful circles and waves, and since I already got both of our pants wet and the boat seemed to be deflating, I pushed us back towards the shore.

For the next hour we lay on our bellies on the warm wharf, letting the sun dry our behinds. Soon everything was warm and peaceful, and we were suddenly quite glad we managed to get our pants wet. We laughed and talked, my angular body pressed painfully against the wooden boards. We were dazed and still a bit wet by the time we got up and decided to wander through the city.

Having accomplished my mission, I dropped Heather back at the University in her damp pants, and biked my wet ass down to St. Jacobs. Now that school is over, I can afford to leisurely watch the dying embers of the day in the middle of an empty field. Except that the field wasn’t exactly empty — I had sheep to keep me company.