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Little boys are stinky ... and it only gets worse in the summer. Imagine an olfactory mixture of worm guts, asphalt and wet dog. So I make my boys bathe. They hate this. I yell, demand and threaten just to get them into the tub each night. What confounds me about their dislike of bathing is their absolute love of swimming. Can anyone explain this to me? I mean, isn’t a swimming pool basically a super-humongous bathtub? Anyway, instead of fighting with them about personal hygiene, I take them to our local pool. A lot. Based on our almost daily visits, I’ve noticed a few things:
Beware the baby pool! Nothing says bio-hazard like this shallow infant oasis. And why can’t we just call it what it is? It’s a pee pond. Yes, there’s a reason why the water temperature hovers at a steady 98.6 degrees. Nevertheless, mothers flock to it. They shyly giggle as their adorable newborns scrunch-up their wee faces and bear down into their swim diapers. Let’s face it, the baby area puts the poo in pool ... literally.
- It’s sink or swim in the deep end. The big pool is not much better. I am on high alert the entire time my kids are swimming here. To be honest, I don’t trust that the 16 year-old lifeguard, sunning himself in that oversized highchair, is going to rescue my child if he goes under. So I equip my kids with water wings and flotation devices. But what does it matter? Vigilant as I am, I always end up losing sight of one of my boys. Thus begins my frantic scan across a sea of tiny bobbing heads. I sort by hair color and mentally cross off the good swimmers. Finally I spot him—flailing like a steerage passenger the night the Titanic sank. And the lifeguard? Oh he’s checking out the babe-a-licious vixen in the bikini.
Illustration by Bridgette Blanton. Visit her website.
And when the kids start playing, guess what they're playing with ...