11172017Headline:

Just Fwimmin’

crab
I’m reporting to you live from the Split level, burnt to a crisp.

No, the house didn’t burn down. That was just a very poorly constructed sentence.

However, I’m boiled to a crisp from the already blazing sun. And no matter how much I shuffle sideways and snap my claws at Husband, I’m have a really hard time selling the idea I’ve chosen to live out the rest of my life as a crab.

Winter pretty much catapulted us right into summer, so I did what I always do:

1.) Rejoice that the ice is gone.
2.) Realize it’s pool season.
3.) Panic because it’s time to put on a swimsuit. Remember I threw away my old, trusty worn out suit last year. File petition with the city to let me construct something durable made of burlap and trash bags.

And because I’ve written posts about shopping for a suit before, I won’t emotionally scar you with what went on this year, but I think a stream of consciousness might do the trick…

“These suits are for twelve-year-olds. Crap, that’s because I’m in the teen section. Ok, where’s the Ye Olde Woman Coverings section? Hold on, is that a top? Nope, that’s a price tag. Or maybe a top. Ahh, here we go, a nice one piece- Wait, why does it have holes in the sides? Ok, a halter top may be able to hold the wreckage of my torso in. But what about bottoms? Shorts. Skirt. Shorts. Skirt.

…not today swim skirt. Shorts it is.”

For those of you who don’t know, children who are caged all winter are pretty much insane by the time the first Honeysuckle peaks through the thaw. It’s best to find a place filled with water and other things that are equally as dangerous and let them go play there.

That’s the Kellerman modus operandi every year. Show up. Become majestic masters of the aquatic element, try not to swallow so much pool water, you throw up on the ride home. Every day this week, we’ve been easing into this new schedule for life. In case you too need a quick reference guide for a perilous day at the pool, I’ve compiled a snapshot of our day*

*I often get complaints about how perfect we are. Don’t pay too much attention to our spotless way of living, just try. That’s all you can do. Try.
5am: Baby wakes me up and asks when we’re “fwimmin’.”
6am: Other children awake and ask repeatedly about the pool.
7am: Eat breakfast and ask repeatedly about the pool.
8am: Hide in the bathroom while children bang on the door and ask when they’re going to the pool.
9am: Watch kids jump on the bed and kick clean laundry on the dog-hair-drenched floor while they ask when they’re going to the pool.
10am: Wiggles marathon and my special time to weep, contemplatively in the corner.
11am: Beg children to eat lunch before they go to the pool. Eat three turkey sandwiches by myself and wait for the kids to be hungry, right when we get to the pool.

12pm: Convince everyone they need to put on suit, shoes, and clothes. Unsuccessful. People still asking when we’re going to the pool.

1pm: Arrive at pool. Keep everyone from getting hit by a car.
1:15pm: Try desperately to stop all offspring from running into the pool with their clothes on.
1:30pm: Instruct all children not to leave designated area.

1:30-3pm: Retrieve children from areas they wandered to.
Keep baby from base jumping off the walls.
Give baby stern talking-to for slapping you because you’re trying to save his life.
Think you’ve lost a twin.
Retrieve twin in bathroom.
Think you’ve lost the other twin.
Find other twin in bathroom.
Advise both twins, when everyone gets out of the pool, it doesn’t mean it becomes their private pool. They’re also obligated to get out.
Wonder if you should let Sundance take her topless Barbies down the slide. Nevermind, you don’t have the energy to care.
3:30pm: Announce it’s time to go.
4pm: After having to put the baby under your arm and run in to pull everyone out, you manage to drag the entire caravan back to the car.
4:15pm: Don’t let anyone get hit by a car. Drive off and look forward to tomorrow. Also, did you get everyone out of the pool?

All right, I’m off to buy sunscreen and practice walking sideways.


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