Poopy Baby
Why would you poop in a pool? Why did you do that, small, unhappy child? And why didn't your parents stop you?
Story of the day:
I was sitting in the pool, relaxing and generally enjoying the sun. I was dunking my head under the water, floating on my back, swimming half-heartedly when I felt indolent. It was overall a pleasant experience. Suddenly, the lifeguard began frantically blowing the whistle. It wasn't the sound of, "No diving, you damn kids!" or "Adult swim." This left me at a loss. What could the lifeguard possibly be trying to say. I looked around me. Everyone else had stopped, too, and was looking around, equally baffled. I noticed some activity at one end of the pool, a parent ushering a child out. I followed her lead, and we all gradually left the pool.
It was then that I noticed the lifeguards crowding around one part of the shallow end, expressions of displeasure and mild disgust on their faces. I, too, made my way over and took a look, trying to figure out what they deemed concerning enough to evacuate us from the pool. I spotted it, slowing sinking to the bottom of the pool: a couple Lincoln logs of poop. I shared a look with one of the lifeguards. We both understood that secretly most people pee in the pool, get away with it, and feel minimal remorse. It's a fact of life. But feces?
As it turns out, one of the kids, the one I'd seen being ushered out of the pool by his mother, had decided that he needed fun more than he needed the bathroom. Leaving the pool would have cut in on precious play time, so he just pulled his bathing suit aside and let nature follow its course. In some ways it makes sense. OH WAIT, that's wrong.
The pool is going to be closed tomorrow for cleaning.
Story of the day:
I was sitting in the pool, relaxing and generally enjoying the sun. I was dunking my head under the water, floating on my back, swimming half-heartedly when I felt indolent. It was overall a pleasant experience. Suddenly, the lifeguard began frantically blowing the whistle. It wasn't the sound of, "No diving, you damn kids!" or "Adult swim." This left me at a loss. What could the lifeguard possibly be trying to say. I looked around me. Everyone else had stopped, too, and was looking around, equally baffled. I noticed some activity at one end of the pool, a parent ushering a child out. I followed her lead, and we all gradually left the pool.
It was then that I noticed the lifeguards crowding around one part of the shallow end, expressions of displeasure and mild disgust on their faces. I, too, made my way over and took a look, trying to figure out what they deemed concerning enough to evacuate us from the pool. I spotted it, slowing sinking to the bottom of the pool: a couple Lincoln logs of poop. I shared a look with one of the lifeguards. We both understood that secretly most people pee in the pool, get away with it, and feel minimal remorse. It's a fact of life. But feces?
As it turns out, one of the kids, the one I'd seen being ushered out of the pool by his mother, had decided that he needed fun more than he needed the bathroom. Leaving the pool would have cut in on precious play time, so he just pulled his bathing suit aside and let nature follow its course. In some ways it makes sense. OH WAIT, that's wrong.
The pool is going to be closed tomorrow for cleaning.
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