Monday, September 10, 2012

Someone call 911

I'd be lying if I said I ever got imprisoned for sneakily swimming in a stranger's pool.
I'd also be lying if I said I never sneakily swam in a stranger's pool.
Because it may or may not have happened like every other night during the summer of eighth grade.
On the streetz, this crime is better known as pool hopping.
You know, where you slide out of your house after all other occupants have fallen asleep, meet up with friends, walk aimlessly around a neighborhood until you feel the urge to swim. At which point you find a pool- any pool- and go swimming.

Who does this???
Hooligans.
Get a freakin hobby.
I mean, one that doesn't involve "borrowing" other's pools for short amounts of time. 

Well being a mature adult....yes, let that marinade....you can imagine how thrilled I was when a friend forced on me my own copy of her subdivision pool key. I mean, it was seriously starting to get awkward jumping that fence with four kids. 
Kidding kidding, when I retired my after hour escapades, I also retired my mad pool hopping skillz. And besides, the odds of me successfully sneaking my crew into a pool unnoticed are like 9:1:1.
{Babe, you'd bail me out right?}

Anyway, so finding myself in possession of this completely illegitimate key totally brought out a different side of me. 
A muy low-key side.
I was not about to do a thing that would draw any attention to myself {okay, so I probably ruined that plan when I showed up with a brood in tow}. But I mean, I was really trying to fit in. Like, be one of their people. And I was doing good.

Until the day I brought a guest. And we were up on the sidelines of the hot tub watching our kids sit in the hot tub. Now take note, because "sit" is a key word. As we're sitting there, a doushe bag- this is not name calling or judging or demeaning, it's straight calling things as they are- walked up and without a slight change in his gait, without any digestion of the scene, without any common courtesy OR common sense....started talking all kinds of harsh to our kids, "You know hot tubs aren't for playing or splashing or really even for kids?"
Homeboy didn't even bat an eye.
The audacity....
it was impressively panty bunching.
Who did he think he was?

Now I'll sit here and let you know without hesitation that he was a doushe to the bag. But in the moment? Huh uh. I wasn't about to do a thing more than look at him like a crazy man and keep my lips sealed...and let my mind run wild. Besides, letting foul words escape my mouth doesn't really constitute low-key.
Well, my sidekick....not the case....fire. cracker. 
That's what she is.

"OH EXCUSE ME, IS THIS YOUR POOL?"
I mean, without skippin a beat she was returning his darts.
"AND IN CASE YOU DIDN'T NOTICE, THEY'RE JUST SITTING THERE."
Does it help in painting the picture if I tell you this was like a good-looking 45ish year old, shaved chest, nicely tanned and defined body that screamed, "I HAVE NO KIDS AND THERE'S A REASON FOR THAT. AND PS GETTING SPLASHED IS NOT AN OPTION." I hate to be passing judgement on this poor sir, but....like I already said, doushe bag.

Now while I totally was shocked by my girl's gusto and that very experience sealed the deal- I knew she had my back come what may- I was more than a bit nervous that someone would want to know who we were. Whether it be that man or a worker, or shoot, worse car scenario, the coppers. And I would hate to lie. And possibly even worse, I would hate to tell the truth about who we weren't!  

Well, it never amounted to anything and we escaped that situation unscathed and with key still in hand. And I had upped my commitment to a low-key profile. This included things like following ALL rules at ALL times. You can imagine how that- in and of itself- made me, like, suuuuper proud of myself...I was commenting to follow ALL rules. {Except that little one that says you must be a member to be at the pool...}   

So when the kids and I were in the hot tub the other day, everyone was behaving to code, dressed to code, bee-boppin to code. Soon we noticed a few floaties. And pretty quickly those floaties were identified...as fecies. I don't if that's how you spell it but I really don't want to say poop. Because that's just gross. For a mili-second I looked around, praying that there was another probable culprit in the water. 

But no such luck. I was the only baby mama in there and they were the only babies. 
Although they were BOTH properly fitted- as is the rule- in their swim diapers, who's full purpose is to keep number two's contained. Those dang swim diapers, they failed me. And it hurt.
Still trying to go with low-profile, I advised the other hot-tubbers to get the heck out, toxins had entered the premises, ya know.

And next, according to protocol, according to responsible, according to low-key busted but still trying to roll low-key, I proceeded to find the worker and inform her of the "mishap".

Now, she didn't accept this news as gracefully as I expected. 
Was she mad?
No, not at all.
But to be honest, I was accepting a confession {from me}, a smily "That's okay, thanks for telling me" {from her}, and we're on our happy way.
So I did my part and gave the confession. 
Her face dropped, and she let out a slow,
"Ooooohhhhh," --you know the kind-- she started being all, "Well, that's not good because the county says we have to empty the jacuzzi and sanitize and refill it" {obvi, that's why I was telling you}..."and... you have to pay for it. So we'll probably just have to bill your family."
My eyes popped.

She can NOT know who my family is. Because that would mean she would find out who my family isn't. And that would mean she would find out I'm in illegal possession of the pool key which is far worse than my child just having scraps of defication in the hot tub.
"Oh, well even though we were following the rules and had a swim diaper on? I mean, they just kinda...slipped out." 
Slipped out? Really?
look at that innocent face. of course it slipped out.
But give me credit, I was desperate. In my mind, I was already imagining the confrontation with the legit family. I mean, do I sell the legit family out? Do I pretend I am the legit family? Do I let the lady assume we're a different family? After all, she had already commented on how big Kaia was getting. In my mind, I was thinking, "She has me confused with another family." Which I, of course, was not about to call her out on. And how could I have known that this would come back to play in my favor? My head was swimming, my mouth was doing it's best not to ramble {too much}, we were scrambling.
 
She walked away and taped off the crime scene, asked me one more little question on the way back to her office, and I didn't see her again.

And with that, we were up and out. Without a single mention of who we were. Or who we weren't.
I may have retired my mad pool hoppings skillz. But apparently I still got mad get-me-the-heck-outta-here skillz...even with four kids in tow.

Peace Out.
stalk AGNG:

9 comments:

  1. Some people just don't understand that crap happens - sometimes literally. I would have been sooo embarrassed, props for handling it like a pro!

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  2. Hilarious! Is the key now retired? Good think she waited until the end of summer to pollute the pool! Awk.ward.

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    Replies
    1. key is still securely in hands....suckas!

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  3. Are u calling me a hooligan? ;) -t-

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    Replies
    1. if i did that would imply something about me....
      sometime i have to tell that ONE sneaking out story. members? crazy 7th grade night.

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  4. I mean Crap coming out of that sweet face has to be cute crap right?!!?

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  5. How funny!!

    I love when people with no kids try and "teach" us moms how we should raise our kids.

    I wonder if they make swim diapers with the saying "crap happens" ???

    Laura@MiceInTheKitchen :)

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  6. girls i think you should all gt together and brainstorm this "crap happens" swim diaper! awesome!

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  7. Hilarious. So are you showing your face back there again? Swim diapers are the worst with poop. Btw feces sounds gross, poop sounds slightly better

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