We went to Lake Powell last week, just us adults. And it was all very fun. We wakeboarded, air-chaired, played horse-shoes and told stories around the camp fire. Memorable, fun, and often hilarious.
Here are the spectators of the horse-shoe match. Please note the plethora of cranial protection. Also the fact that the gentle-lady in the pink bonnet is my 98-year old grandmother.
This is me participating in the hors-shoe tournament. Was pretty much awesome, so ya know. 
My uncle and me, winning the tournament. Told you I was awesome. My ringer ended the game (only after Danny dragged us all the way to the top). 
Grandma again. We pumped her full of sweets then let her sugar-crash out in the water. Other things of interest:
- There was one wallet lost in the water, which was retrieved with mask and dive the next day.
- This family is highly competitive (which resulted in various strategies of commentary, encouragement, distraction, and eventually evident avoidance of the other team).
- I learned how to play bridge with my 98-year old grandma.
- This family has the best stories to tell around the fire
FOR EXAMPLE:
Hootie once drove his friends for some camping trip up in northern Utah. They were pulled over by a cop and had to use the rest of their money to pay him off. They then continued to drive, and Hootie decided it was fun to light bottle rockets out the window of the moving vehicle. Naturally one flew back into the car and bounced everywhere before landing in the driver's console. This resulted in a moderate crash that tilted the entire frame of the car. But no worries. On to fishing!
They finally made it, and caught some illegal fish but couldn't eat them before the Fishing and Game Inspector came over. But they still had fun by strategically placing a dead snake for one of their friends to find.
But when they needed to go home they had no more gas and no money. So what did they do? Simply they used the windshield fluid hose to siphon gas from a cop's car (since it was his fault they were in this predicament in the first place) while the car was sitting in front of his house. It took a while, but they got home just fine, and rather enjoyed themselves.
And that is just ONE of the tales of the family. They lived quite adventurously, I do say. THOUGH we did have our own share. On the way home we stopped in Green River and the keys were locked in the car. This was bad, as there is no spare in existence and we were trying to get my aunt to the airport just in time to catch a flight. Yikes.
But luckily there happened to be a teenager working at the Subway who has the black-market knowledge of breaking into unsuspecting (or suspecting) vehicles. We rounded his sandy head up and he assisted us with a small set of tools (including the coat hanger and a screw-driver) and in less than 5 minutes he had the door open and we were on our way. Richard to the rescue!
And how does my brother pay Subway back for hiring such ideal employees? By stealing one of their giant sticky signs and adhering it to my other brother's car during the night. Fun fun.
