We tried to go swimming yesterday. By saying "tried" I mean that we got everyone in swimsuits, packed up some sandwiches, slathered everyone up with sunscreen, loaded everyone in the car, and then drove to the pool- only to discover it didn't open for another hour. This should have been my first clue we were not meant to do this.
After an hour, the pool opens, and we head inside. After an hour of play, my Lucy is ready to give it up and take a nap- and she lets us know by going completely boneless and wailing a high pitched scream that makes every dog in a 3 mile vicinity shake their ears. I'm so preoccupied with her, I don't notice the hullabaloo going on at the pool.
Suddenly, I see parents all around me, scurrying up their things and grabbing their cranky kids and making for the exit. I see the lifeguards drag out a huge vacuum, and start fighting with each other over who was going to use it. Then, my husband walks over and says "Hey, the pool's closed. Some kid took a huge poo and it will take 45 minutes to clean it up."
My question is- if it only takes 45 minutes to clean that up, who the hell goes in the pool afterwards? Not me! It will be WEEKS before I venture there again. After telling Annie for the umpteenth time that "no, you may not go over and see the poopie", we grab our things and go. On our way out the door, we see parents, in their swimsuits, lathered with sunscreen, just walking in. The guy at the desk tells them "Sorry, due to a floating bio-hazard, the pool will be closed for a hour." We giggled about that all the way home.