As if the past few days weren’t exciting enough for everyone around here, we took it up a notch tonight by going on a family adventure to the swim club, after work on a…wait for it…weeknight! Yep, that’s right; we are some wild and zany people up in here.
Honestly, I’m not sure why we didn’t think of trying it before now. You grab a couple of cheap 4-5 buck pizzas (look around, you’ll find them) and head to the pool. It turned out to be a great way to spend the evening doing stuff together that doesn’t include
- bickering about whose turn it is to take a bath first
- begging to watch the episode of Phineas and Ferb that’s just starting, right at bedtime,
- denying responsibility for the Great Bathroom Counter Toothpaste Explosion of 2010
While at the pool, the Mini-Puddinette demonstrated how she can “pedal” (aka paddle, aka kick furiously while clinging to the sidewall) from either her belly or her back. Shortly thereafter, both the Puddinpop and Puddinpop – The Sequel impressed me with repeated flailing jumps from the low board, followed by swimming back to the wall unaided. It was, indeed, a red-letter day in the water!
While we’re on the subject, I need to clear something up. Remember the other day, when I said I was “pinkish”? I think I might have also mentioned that my noggin was “crispy.” Yes, well, it turns out that my original comments on the matter were a tad…understated, kind of like saying that Godzilla was rude when visiting Tokyo and departed on bad terms. Sunday night, my poor neck and shoulders had become a puffy, angry, bright crimson. Hoping to alleviate the general discomfort, I applied some aloe gel that was so green the color could not possibly exist in nature. Honestly, though, I didn’t care at the time what they were mixing in there to make that disturbing bright emerald color. The stuff contains lidocaine, a topical anesthetic; I would have smeared it across my back if the stuff was made from spent nuclear uranium paste. Sure, that probably would have resulted in a third eye or a second pair of arms, but I had the shivers and was hot to the touch. It was that kind of sunburn. A little mutation would have been small price to pay.
No extra appendages so far, luckily. I’ll keep you posted.
So then, how does a relatively smart guy with a generally wiser wife manage to fry the crap out of his neck and shoulders in just one day? Two words: spray-on sunscreen. Sure, everyone loves the spray-on stuff. It’s easy to apply, generally isn’t prone to the streakiness that results in a zebra-style glow, and doesn’t give you that basted feeling that typically has me looking around for a roasting pan. It has one enormous drawback, though, the wind; it can grab that spray and send it out into space along with radio signals meant for Extra Terrestrials.
Damn aliens stole my sunscreen. I bet that’s all part of their research plan.