As you know from my last post, I had family visiting from out of town last week. I had a great time with my mom and grandma, and we spent a good amount of time in the pool, since someone apparently left the gates of Hades open and it was a thousand degrees outside. Keeping track of four children in the pool is a real challenge. I know that I need to bite the bullet and pay for swimming lessons, but when would I actually be able to take them? Since my oldest is the only one who can maneuver his way around the pool unattended, I made sure the younger three had on floaties. And when I say floaties, I mean they were covered from every angle. There was no way they were going to have any mishaps, unless of course one of them decided to be brave and shed their floaties, as Thing One did. She soon found out that was not the smartest idea, and thankfully I was close enough to get to her quickly.
You would think that after having four children, I would have the sense to make sure everyone uses the bathroom before leaving the house. I am an absolute scatterbrain, and sometimes I skip this important step in preparing to leave. About thirty minutes after we got into the pool, my little linebacker told me that he had to pee. Now normally, I don’t recommend peeing in the pool. However, we were not at home this time and did not have the luxury of running inside to the comfort of our own bathroom. We were at a resort and the pool there had a restroom nearby, which meant somehow speed swimming over to the other side of the pool, climbing out, and then stripping down wet swimming trunks. Not to mention the fact that he left his flip flops and walked to the pool barefoot since it wasn’t very far from the room. That was the decision maker. There was no way I was taking him into a public restroom with no shoes on. So I brought him close, and whispered in his ear “Just pee in the pool this time.” Now when a person whispers to you, that generally means your response to them should also be a whisper. I am not sure why I expected my four year old to understand this without having been taught, but he responded very loudly with:” I don’t wanna pee in the pool!” I felt my face turn a shade of red that I never thought possible for someone with my complexion, and I prayed no one heard. I pleaded with him for about five minutes, and he finally gave in. “Okay,” he said with a worried look on his face. So you can imagine my confusion when he proceeded to get out of the pool anyway. What the heck was he doing? He pulled his swimming trunks down to his ankles and got ready to take aim into the water. “NO!” I yelled. Had he been successful in his attempt, there is no question that he would have urinated into the hair of a sweet-looking elderly woman who was standing in the water directly in his path.
My mother finally realized the reason behind my commotion and attempted to boost me up by my behind so I could run little linebacker to the restroom. In my hysteria, I still couldn’t pull myself up over the ledge. Thankfully, my mother was closer to the pool stairs and was able to climb quickly out of the pool and rush him to the bathroom. After a few minutes, he arrived back at the pool with a look of relief in his face, and did a cannonball into the pool (which is actually prohibited), splashing water on the poor little old lady that he almost peed on. She didn’t seem to mind much. I’m just happy that it ended up being water that ruined her hairdo.