I am sure when I was a teenager, I never had an attitude. What, mom? You say I did? Okay, well I am sure that I did sometimes. But I would like to think that I never copped an attitude with the patrons at my place of employment.
The boys and I are regulars at our neighborhood swimming pool. I think this pool is just about the greatest thing ever. It’s big, it’s got lots of shaded tables and comfortable lounge chairs. It’s very clean. It has a shaded baby pool that Logan loves. And this totally blows my mind-it’s hardly ever crowded. I love our pool. But I have encountered something that takes my pool love down a notch.
The lifeguards. The teenage, I’m-really-cool-because-I’m-a-lifeguard, I-only-want-this-job-for-the-tan, lifeguards. There are 2 in particular who absolutely drive me crazy. I’ll call them Taylor and Mary (because those are their real names. There is no protection of the innocent on this blog.) They are the weekend lifeguards. I love the guards during the week-they are fabulous. Very friendly, helpful, nice, and laid back on the rules in certain situations.
Yesterday at the pool, Mary blew her whistle and yelled at Logan to walk. Logan. He’s 15 months old. If blowing a whistle and shouting out a command worked for 15 month old kids, parenting at this age would be much, much easier. And let’s be honest. How fast do you think Logan runs? He’s chubby, plus his legs are only about 14 inches long. Nice one, Mary.
The last 10 minutes of every hour, kids are required to get out of the pool for adult swim. While I think that adult swim is pretty silly because the pool is never crowded at all, I understand it’s just the policy. Today Mary blew her whistle and shouted “adult swim.” I looked at her and thought she was joking. Honestly, I said “are you kidding me?” Connor and I were the only ones at the pool today. The pool sat empty for adult swim, because the only adult there was ME! The weekday lifeguards skip adult swim if it’s obvious that it’s only mom’s there with their kids, but not Mary. No. Not Mary.
Mary and Taylor were cleaning the tiles today, so they were both in the pool when Connor and I were out. We jump back in (into the shallow end, mind you). And Mary looks at me, and with this sassy little attitude says “will you please tell us before you get back in so one of us can get in the guard chair? It’s the rule.” Um, okay. I don’t really think we were at risk for drowning, seeing as I was A.) holding Connor in the shallow end. and B.) Connor wears a flotation device bathing suit, and C.) Mary was standing in the water literally 6 feet away from us.
Connor puts on his sandles for the walk home. He takes 3 steps and crumbles onto the groud, crying because of a raw blister. We are still the only ones at the pool, so sure the guards noticed a writhing 3 year old in a neon green spandex suit. So I calmly pick Connor up and tell him we will get a bandaid from the lifeguards.
Taylor jumps in the pool.
“Excuse me, can I get a band-aid for his foot?”
Taylor turns to us with this look on his face like I have just asked him to drive 45 minutes out of the way to pick me up a decaf double tall skinny latte, steamed to 182 degrees, with exactly 3 drops of caramel syrup, not sauce. (yes, I know someone who orders coffee like that…)
“Does he really need one?”
“umm…he’s got a blister right where his sandle is. He really can’t walk home.”
“ughhhhh. It’s just that I have to fill out paperwork and everything.”
“for a band-aid?! Okay, nevermind. He can just suffer.”
“no, no. I’ll get it.” Insert huge eye roll.
Connor and I sit down. And wait. And wait some more.
“Um, Mary? Where are the gloves? I can’t find the rubber gloves and this kid wants a band-aid.”
“I can put it on his foot if you can just give me the band-aid. It’s not really even bleeding. It’s just an open blister that hurts.”
Mary informs Taylor that they don’t need gloves or the report, and just to give us a band-aid. Thanks Mary. You finally got something right.
Connor is happy, I am not so happy, and we leave without so much as a good-bye from the guards because they are too busy complaining about how many hours our pool is open every week.
Thank goodness tomorrow is Monday.