In the interest of trying to spend my morning with Small without having to watch any cartoon programming or oohing and aahing over various sandbox creations, we went out for coffee. One of my girlfriends mentioned that she overheard some women talking about how excited they were that our neighborhood pool will be opening soon.
Here’s the thing about our neighborhood: there are a LOT of beautiful people here. I’m talking size-4 wearing, Louis Vuittion carrying, salad eating, good looking people.
F*ck. I’ve got approximately 2 weeks to lose 50 lbs., and how did I spend my morning? Carb-loading on bagels at Panera.
I have no doubt that many of my neighbors are at this very moment getting botoxed, waxed, and highlighted in preparation for Memorial Day Weekend. They will show up at the pool in their bikinis, their giant bag of pool toys, and their healthy snacks.
|Know why I love it? Because I'm the ONLY person|
at our pool who has one. I don't even have my name in it!
. . . And then I’ll come rolling in. I will no doubt be carrying oversized pool toys and everybody else’s beach towels, at which point I will have to take off running after Small, who will make a bee-line for the deep end. I will also have with me my prized Dale Earnhardt, Jr. cooler, filled with Lunchables and Diet Coke. While the other mommies are sunning and flipping through magazines, I’ll be getting my hair wet as I try to stop my children from beating the sh*t out of each other with pool noodles. Small will find soggy goldfish on the deck and decide to give ‘em a try, Medium will complain “it’s no fair” when Large makes him be the man in the middle, and they’ll all three be asking me for ice cream in 45 minute increments.
The Russian lifeguards, all hungover and exhausted because they had to ride their bikes to work, will ignore my children because it’s so hard to tell the difference between “swimming” and “drowning.” In both instances, there’s a lot of splashing and flailing and a general tangling of appendages. Here’s how one can differentiate: when they're yelling, “help, I can’t make it to the edge!” they’re drowning. When they’re yelling, “Mommy, watch this! Mom! Watch! Are you watching? Look!” they’re swimming.
Yep. I can’t wait.