Greetings all. Here is the continuation of The Son Of The South series as promised. We regret the tremendous amount of time that has passed since this story was started, but it was through no fault of our own. Still, we recommend perhaps glancing at the first chapter of this story further down the page, just to get your bearings, so to speak. Forgive this interruption, now on with the story!

Fear and Loathing in Orlando - Day 3

I awoke in the morning on Day Three the same way as I had awoken 6 times earlier that night.
Sweating.
Which just goes to prove the old saying; It's not The Heat that gets you so much as The Humidity.
I can tell you they were right.
In fact, I'm a little surprised that there are no college or professional sports teams in Florida that have taken advantage of that demonic little moniker. What's worse than Gators, scarier than Hurricanes, and "gets you" more than The Heat?

THE HUMIDITY.
Get your season tickets now...

I like their chances this year. Today was Friday, and Claire and I had decided that we would go to Wet N Wild, the enormous waterpark we frequented in our youths. So we dropped the baby off with Claire's Brother-In-Law (My cousin of some sort?) and headed out to the crazy land of Water Slides, Chlorine, and British Tourists.
We had loads of fun there, though I must say that the time spent waiting in line for a ride is sadly disproportionate to the time spent actually enjoying the ride. This prompted me to make the following joke every time we waited for every ride in the park.

"Wet N' Wild? Hey! They should call this place Wait N Wild!"

Ah, wordplay. The cleft-lipped bastard child of comedy. Here is Claire, pretending to be unamused by my hilarity.