It’s been about 10 years since I have been to Arizona. It seems like many things have changed. There are a lot more people, there are a lot more homes, and there are a lot more shopping centers. If there is one thing that hasn’t changed, it’s the heat. Its hot there. Dang hot.
It’s so hot in fact, that the local news stations only label it “HOT” when the temperatures reach 110 degrees or more. Apparently, 109 is not really hot. It’s just warm. Crazy, indeed.
The solution to this dreadful heat? There are a few. For example, many places are equipped with misters outside. A constant water flow through a special nozzle creates a cool mist enjoyed by any who are near enough to feel its cooling presence. The afore mentioned shopping centers are all air-conditioned. They are cool enough that some of the stores feel good enough to sell hot beverages to thirsty consumers. Movie theatres are another escape. Dark, cool, and if you can put up with the rest of the crowds a perfect retreat from the blazing afternoon heat.
And last, but certainly not least, there is the pool.
If you live in Arizona, it seems like a no-brainer that you should have a pool. If you don’t have a pool, it seems a no-brainer that you should know someone with a pool. If you don’t know someone with a pool, it seems a no-brainer that you should know where the good public pools are.
My sister has a pool. And the boys and I spent a fair amount of time in the pool this week while visiting my sister, as did Megan and Braydon. Even when the water temperature was nearly 90 degrees, it felt so much cooler than the 110-degree weather that was outside.
So yes, we spent some time in the pool.
Now, let me rewind the tape a little. When we arrived, we were warned there might be a little pee on the seat, as my sister’s youngest is still working on his use of the potty. He is still pretty young, after all. This information alone should be enough to set the scene that is about to unfold.
It was in the early evening, my mother, son, niece and two nephews were in the pool waiting for dinnertime. It was still hot; and I mean really hot. It was easily over 100 degrees outside. The pool, however, was on the cooler side, near 85. Nice. IT was getting close to the time we would want the kids to start getting out, and mom and I were devising a plan to break the news to the kids softly that pool time for the evening was almost over.
I had given the order to the kids to find all the torpedoes in the water and get them out. My son decided he could get a better vantage point from out of the water. As he was doing so he said to me, “Dad! There is something in the pool next to the torpedo!” It was getting dark, and I couldn’t exactly see what it was, but there was definitely something there. I wasn’t wearing goggles, so when I went underwater to investigate the mysterious object it was simply a blurry little thing at the bottom of the pool.
I reached out to grab it and instantly knew something was horribly, horribly wrong. I don’t know that “slimy” is the right word. More like squishy. Soft, squishy, and all together wrong. The chemicals in the pool seemed to be doing their job in making sure it was breaking down, and I dropped it accordingly. I came to the surface of the pool, still hoping against hope that what I had found was something other than what I suspected it of being. There was a slight residue left on a part of my hand. Knowing what I was getting into, I performed a quick aroma check of the residue in question.
Poop.
Yep, it was poop. Someone had pooped in the pool. There was no need to wonder who it was, because the offending child (still working on the appropriate use of the toilet) was quick, and I mean overly quick, to blame the dog. This was the kind of blame only a guilty child throws out, thinking to deflect the oncoming barrage of trouble headed his way.
Unfortunately for him, no one believed his cockeyed story. It was wholly unbelievable. Much like a story I told my father once about a neighbor’s window I had broken, and tried to blame the dog (but that is another post that should be saved for another time).
I quickly announced that pool time was over. All the kids were to exit the pool immediately. There was a small amount of a panicked rush as everyone did his or her best to get away from the offending doodie.
In the end, we all got a bit of a laugh out of it, and mom and I decided we needed to take a shower (it was more a mental thing than anything else, but it sure made us feel better).
In a small tribute to poop in the pool, here is one of the best “poop in the pool” scenes ever captured on film:
It’s so hot in fact, that the local news stations only label it “HOT” when the temperatures reach 110 degrees or more. Apparently, 109 is not really hot. It’s just warm. Crazy, indeed.
The solution to this dreadful heat? There are a few. For example, many places are equipped with misters outside. A constant water flow through a special nozzle creates a cool mist enjoyed by any who are near enough to feel its cooling presence. The afore mentioned shopping centers are all air-conditioned. They are cool enough that some of the stores feel good enough to sell hot beverages to thirsty consumers. Movie theatres are another escape. Dark, cool, and if you can put up with the rest of the crowds a perfect retreat from the blazing afternoon heat.
And last, but certainly not least, there is the pool.
If you live in Arizona, it seems like a no-brainer that you should have a pool. If you don’t have a pool, it seems a no-brainer that you should know someone with a pool. If you don’t know someone with a pool, it seems a no-brainer that you should know where the good public pools are.
My sister has a pool. And the boys and I spent a fair amount of time in the pool this week while visiting my sister, as did Megan and Braydon. Even when the water temperature was nearly 90 degrees, it felt so much cooler than the 110-degree weather that was outside.
So yes, we spent some time in the pool.
Now, let me rewind the tape a little. When we arrived, we were warned there might be a little pee on the seat, as my sister’s youngest is still working on his use of the potty. He is still pretty young, after all. This information alone should be enough to set the scene that is about to unfold.
It was in the early evening, my mother, son, niece and two nephews were in the pool waiting for dinnertime. It was still hot; and I mean really hot. It was easily over 100 degrees outside. The pool, however, was on the cooler side, near 85. Nice. IT was getting close to the time we would want the kids to start getting out, and mom and I were devising a plan to break the news to the kids softly that pool time for the evening was almost over.
I had given the order to the kids to find all the torpedoes in the water and get them out. My son decided he could get a better vantage point from out of the water. As he was doing so he said to me, “Dad! There is something in the pool next to the torpedo!” It was getting dark, and I couldn’t exactly see what it was, but there was definitely something there. I wasn’t wearing goggles, so when I went underwater to investigate the mysterious object it was simply a blurry little thing at the bottom of the pool.
I reached out to grab it and instantly knew something was horribly, horribly wrong. I don’t know that “slimy” is the right word. More like squishy. Soft, squishy, and all together wrong. The chemicals in the pool seemed to be doing their job in making sure it was breaking down, and I dropped it accordingly. I came to the surface of the pool, still hoping against hope that what I had found was something other than what I suspected it of being. There was a slight residue left on a part of my hand. Knowing what I was getting into, I performed a quick aroma check of the residue in question.
Poop.
Yep, it was poop. Someone had pooped in the pool. There was no need to wonder who it was, because the offending child (still working on the appropriate use of the toilet) was quick, and I mean overly quick, to blame the dog. This was the kind of blame only a guilty child throws out, thinking to deflect the oncoming barrage of trouble headed his way.
Unfortunately for him, no one believed his cockeyed story. It was wholly unbelievable. Much like a story I told my father once about a neighbor’s window I had broken, and tried to blame the dog (but that is another post that should be saved for another time).
I quickly announced that pool time was over. All the kids were to exit the pool immediately. There was a small amount of a panicked rush as everyone did his or her best to get away from the offending doodie.
In the end, we all got a bit of a laugh out of it, and mom and I decided we needed to take a shower (it was more a mental thing than anything else, but it sure made us feel better).
In a small tribute to poop in the pool, here is one of the best “poop in the pool” scenes ever captured on film:
In closing, let me just say this: May your days be cool and your pools be doodie free.
Well said. It's amazing how fast we got the kids out of the pool when they realized that there was a doodie in the water. (Not to mention, the adults!) Pretty hilarious!
ReplyDeleteThanks for being such a good sport about the whole incident! That movie clip was hilarious!
ReplyDeleteAwesome! It was indeed a great week.
ReplyDeleteYes, you were a much better sport about than I would have been. I can tolerate all levels of grossness from animals, but from humans? Not so much.
ReplyDeleteEwww. Just ewwww.