Creating wadding pool memories

standard August 12, 2008 3 responses

“OK! Mommy is done, done, done, with the computer! Who wants to come play in the pool?” Both girls look at me a bit skeptically, after all I’d been working pretty much all day, even through their lunch, but as I start to strip down and pull my suit on they perk up. I finish adjusting my heinous purple “mommy suit,” complete with ass accentuating skimpy skirt, gather up an already naked baby and traipse out to the back yard where our cute little inflatable pool awaits us.

And that’s when my plan started to feel a little less than brilliant. I mean, it’s not a very big pool. If I sat in the middle I wasn’t even convinced that both Little L and C could be in there with me. But there was no turning back now, both kids we’re giggling like madwomen and urging me on.

I set one foot in and gasped. All day in the 90F sun, but the water was still ice cold. I took a deep breath and put the other foot in and tried hard not to squeal when C and Little L started splashing each other.

Ten minutes later and I had worked my way down to my knees. (Hey! It’s not like a big pool where you can do a full dunk, this here pool is leetle, and I am big, so it’s one body part at a time here.) Little L took this as an invitation to sing a bit of “Ring Around the Rosies” and practice her “all fall down.” C just rolled around and around in the water, splashing us as hard as she could.

M chose right then to come home from work and walked into the yard to find us frolicking in the water, laughing hysterically, both naked kids jumping up and down and swarming all over me, their big purple rock in the middle of their little kiddy pool. He rolled his eyes at me and I could read his expression easily. He was all “I work all day while you play and have fun. Harumph.”

I tried to explain that I’d been working all day and this was the fun bit at the end, but he clearly didn’t believe me, so I gave in to my inner toddler and splashed him as he walked by, shaking his head. What does he know anyway? It’s not like he’s the freelance writer. Heh.

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