As summer is coming to an end, I
started to reminisce about the days of yore when I lived and breathed for
summertime. Especially when it came to the pool. But then I remembered all the
asinine things about the pool and decided that only a child would love that
environment.
Pool Floaties
These were intentionally the most uncomfortable things on
the planet, so as to almost incentivize you into learning how to swim on your
own faster. Why was the arm hole the size of a golf ball? Whose arm was that
small? It took at least one full blown adult to yank those things up a child’s
arm. And then you’d just go run and jump in the pool and one would effortlessly
slip off and you’re left clinging for your life while the one floating arm is
all that’s left keeping you alive.
Pool Shoes
Even as a child I aptly named these things “drown shoes”. I
was FORCED to wear them when, usually about midway through the summer, my feet
were so raw from going off the diving board all day every day that they were
bleeding.
I would wear these miniature anchors and jump off the diving board
straight into a physical fitness test to see if I could get to the side of the
pool without the lifeguard having to dive in. Because that’s what my awkward,
muscle-less body needed: a life-or-death coordination challenge.
Adult Swim
The lifeguards timed this every-hour-on-the-hour 10 minute
hiatus using microwave minutes. Every second of this bore-fest dragged on into
an eternity. We were relegated to playing non-pool games which exclusively
equaled foursquare.
(What kind of bullshit foursquare is this?!? Get back in your square!!)
And then some nightmare teenager would come in and shoe
shine all the younger kids, and have a tea party with their best friends and
you would be forced to weirdly sit with one foot in the pool. As if having 10%
of your body in the pool was comforting and also a way to “stick it to the man”
and by man I mean 15 year old life guard taking a cigarette break.
(Picture these being my feet.... only with shoes on.)
Sharks and Minnows
This game is stand alone evidence that God exists. Because
there was zero reason why I didn’t die playing this game. Here’s the sound
logic of 12 year olds: You are outside of the pool on one side – you are a
minnow. The “sharks” are in the pool on the other side. They start to swim
over. You have to dive in (usually over their heads as if you were
participating in an equestrian style water-pony jumping competition) and try to
reach the other wall without getting tagged.
As if that’s not dangerous enough,
we added a rule that the drains at the bottom of the 10 foot deep pool were “bases”
as well. So we would torpedo down to grab the drains as a ½ way safe place. The
sharks got smart to this and would rip minnows off the drains, causing them to be
out. So what did minnows do? JAM THEIR FINGERS INTO THE DRAINS SO WE COULDN’T GET
RIPPED OFF. I hate even retelling that story.
