When you first laid eyes on Amy reaching her net into the wading pool at the bottom of a waterslide to pull a turd from the water, you were standing by the rapids and a raft came splashing up against the wall, sending a wave of water raining all over you. It was like a baptism.
“I feel like God made me a turd wrangler solely so I could meet you,” you told her on your third date.
“I feel like God made you a turd wrangler just to test me,” Amy responded.
Amy loves her work. She relishes the challenge of catching a turd and netting it out of the water before too many mothers pull their sons out of line for the ride. It takes a special attentiveness to purpose to distinguish a little kid turd from just another stray pair of goggles. And the dexterity required to make that net, she feels like she could just as well be roping bulls at the rodeo.
“Then you came along,” she said. She’d been working her way up to this waterpark for years now. It only hires the most talented of summer job seekers to be their turd wranglers, and Amy wasn’t about to blow her shot at excellence just for love.
“I’m sorry,” she’ll tell you today. “But I can’t see you anymore. I can’t date another turd wrangler. This is too important to me.”
“I’ll quit,” you’ll tell her. “I’ll get a job at the go-cart track.”
“Oh,” Amy will say. “Sweet.” Then she’ll kiss you and that night you’ll get boob.
Happy Water Park Turd Wranglers In Love Day!
