We left the house at 3:50 this afternoon to get to the Aquatic Center for Trots birthday party; Halfway there we realized we'd left his life vest AND my swim trunks at home.
I bet you never knew a mini-van could do 0-60 in 4.7 seconds.
On the fun filled slalom back home, while I dodged in and out between blue hairs on the way to the grocery store and idiotic teenagers cruising around on a Sunday afternoon, Ang and I had a spirited debate on exactly whose fault this was while the kids, clearly traumatized by the arguing, fell asleep.
Tires squealing, we hit the parking lot of the Aquatic Center, pulled up to the front door, and proceeded to offload enough supplies to feed the 81st Airborne. Amidst a din usually only heard on an aircraft carrier or feeding time at the zoo, all three kids attacked the pool like it owed them money.
Angie, proving again she's the brains in the operation didn't bring her swim suit, so it was up to me to wade into a pool with around 55,678 thousand kids swimming, and I'm going out on a limb, peeing into the very water I was standing in. I should mention here that swimming in a public pool ranks right up there with licking a toilet seat and eating out of a dumpster on my "Top Ten Things I Hope I Never Have To Do Again" list.
Finally, mercifully, the life guard blew his whistle for break time and we finally got to do this....
I'm not going to go into the multiple times Trot went under the rope headed toward the deep end or the fact he got back in the pool 4 times AFTER they blew the break whistle and I had to threaten him with bodily harm or the hilarious sight of the 250 pound life guard holding the back of his life vest as I sprinted around the pool to catch him as he headed toward the 12 foot part of the pool.
Once was enough for me.
As I drove home with chlorine in my eyes, Trot babbling about Mickey and Batman fighting, and Rakes hollering he didn't get a tattoo in his gift bag I had one thought rattling around my brain.....
He's only 3 years old.
How in God's name am I going to do this for the next 15 years without ending up in the hospital, the shrinks couch, or the morgue before it is all over?
Please God, don't let it be a Jonas Brothers themed event.
A New Thing for a New Year
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