Humor: Why I hate surfing at the dump

Why I hate surfing at the dump

I don't surf. I can't, on account of an old line dancing injury.

So why, I have been asked by visitors this past week, is there a surfboard in my back yard?

"It's NOT mine," I protest. "Our son Jack brought it home from the recycling centre at the dump."

Yes, Jack, our FIVE-YEAR-OLD who now wants me to take him surfing and seems determined to wear me down.

Jack has been to the recycling centre with his grandparents, Bob and Pat, several times now.
And each time he comes home with new treasures.
In the past weeks, Jack has brought home an old badminton racquet.
And the surfboard.
And a hat stand.
And a broken flashlight.
And two plastic mugs.
And a hat. He thinks it is a workman's hat. I suspect it might be a hat polo player's protective hat, but I'm not telling Jack because he might decide he wants me to take him to play polo. Or worse, he might want to know why we can't keep a horse in the back yard.

"I think you should take me surfing," he said when he bought the surfboard home.

"I've never been surfing in my life, Jack" I said.

"I thought you had," he said. "I thought you said you couldn't do it any more because he injured yourself line dancing."

Um, well, yes I did.
But I have also told potential line dancing partners that I can't join them because I have an old surfing injury, so I think the two white lies cancel themselves out.
Besides, I would look downright silly on a surfboard in a cowboy hat and boots with shiny spurs.

"What were your parents thinking?" I asked my wife Katherine later. "Is this a plan to transfer the whole dump site to our place? What's Jack going to bring home next? An old car body. A surfboard! He's only five. We can't let him go surfing? It's dangerous. He's much too little for six-foot waves."

"Don't be silly," Katherine said calmly. "It's not even a surfboard - it's just a boogie board. When we go to the beach, he can play in the little waves with it."

This is all very well for Katherine and Jack. They like going to the beach, but I DON'T.

And the beach doesn't like me.

I am always hot and dry and bored outside the water, and cold and wet and scared in it.
I don't like the sand and my skin has always burnt easily.
Furthermore, the flies seem to love me.

Why is that?

Mosquitoes seem to love me too. Sometimes in large groups I am the ONLY person mossies bite.

My mother used to tell me this was because I had sweet blood.

This gives me another excuse to pass on surfing.

If mossies like my blood, what will sharks think of it?

NB: I called this site Dunno because I kept drawing a blank when I had to put a name to it