Well, it's official. Summertime is here at the Danny Joe household. Friday was such an unbelievable day. The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect for getting out and doing summery stuff. After watching the kids play in the back yard for a bit, we decided we should fire up the grill for the first time of the season. Let me just say, the hot dogs turned out perfect. After lunch, my wife Sara went to pick up some groceries for dinner and came home with something that would change the way I look at my mortality.

Sara came through the door holding a bright colored big box. I could tell something was amidst by the smiles on my 2 oldest daughter faces. They didn't look like the cat that ate the canary. No. It was more like the tiger who feasted on a California condor. Sara put the box in my lap and it completely blew my mind. It was a Slip'n'Slide! Not the normal banana yellow one either. This one was three lanes wide. This Slip'n'Slide was made for racing. John Force would've been proud of this. I don't know who was more excited to try this thing out, me or my daughters. We got it laid out on the lawn, hooked up the water and waited for the little holes along the sides to start spitting the water out. After it was ready to go, I thought I would "beat the system" and add a secret ingredient to the mix, you know, to add to performance. Baby oil! I know what you're thinking. "Oh no!" or "Don't do that!" but where were you when this thought popped into my head? Ok, back to the story, I was standing like I was in the starting blocks at the Olympic 100 meter dash. Hands down, butt up, eyes focused on my destiny. Like a bullet, I took off (to be honest, it was more like a cork out of a pop gun). As I approached the Slip'n'Slide, I had that last second of clarity when in my mind , my last thought was "Why am I attempting this?AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!" It was already too late to back out as I was already laid out on the grass at the other end of the slide of death. I was in immense pain. My body had NEVER been through such a horrific event. My head, neck and back were burning with pain and to make matters worse, the border of the "splash zone" at the end decided it was going to donkey kick me in the manhood. And never mind that my ribs feel like they took a few shots from Mike Tyson. After a few minutes, I started to recover and the laughter from my kids had settled. I made the comment that the age of use should be cut off at 25. It was then my 8 yr old Rylie showed me the box. For ages 5-12. Next lesson men...read the instructions first.

Danny Joe, TSM