Water Park

It was Jason’s idea.

A “new parents” outing to a well-rated water park just a few towns over. All-inclusive. Family-oriented. Relaxing, with shaded lounges, splash zones for infants, group rides, food vouchers, and—his favorite word—community.

He’d pitched it like it was some restorative, bonding getaway: “It’ll be good for us,” he said. “To meet people. Other new parents. Get out of the house. Recharge a little.”

Emily had been skeptical, but hopeful. She loved water parks. Always had. The lazy rivers, the slides, the heat, the wet plastic smell of sunscreen and chlorine. A holdover from childhood, sure, but something about them had always made her feel free. She hadn’t stepped foot in one since before Chloe. Since before the pregnancy. Before her body shifted and grew and stretched and softened.

So, she’d said yes. Quietly excited. Secretly nervous.

She even dug out her favorite bikini from the back of her closet—bright teal, low-cut, too small on top even before she had a baby. But it fit again now. Or sort of. Her breasts were bigger now, heavier and rounder, straining against the strings. Her hips fuller. Her ass curved and soft and firm in ways that drew looks when she’d tried it on at home. Even Jason had done a double take.

But when they arrived at the park…

The truth hit fast.

Only three other couples had infants.

The rest of the group—nearly twenty families—were juggling kids ranging from toddlers to teenagers. And not one of them looked particularly interested in “community bonding.” They looked exhausted. Tactical. Strategic.

Before Emily could even ask where the main slides or wave pool were, the organizer—a mom with a clipboard and far too much SPF on her nose—gently guided them toward the “Infant Splash & Lounge Zone,” which turned out to be a heavily shaded corner with padded play mats, two ankle-deep fountains, and a row of plastic chairs for nursing.

The kids, loud and chaotic, scattered across the park with floaties and popsicles.

The parents?

They left the babies with whoever looked the least mobile.

Jason blinked. “Oh. Huh.”

Emily stared. “This is not what was advertised.”

Jason frowned. “Yeah… maybe they padded the numbers to get new people to show up.”

“Padded? Jason, this is a babysitting con.”

He looked sheepish but tried to recover. “Well, hey… I mean, maybe we can still enjoy it. The other dads seem cool. I’ll stay here for a bit—talk with them, maybe get Chloe settled.”

Emily’s jaw clenched.

“Great.”