Last weekend was Memorial Day weekend, and you know what that means. Pool wars! The latest reality show from A&E — sandwiched between Storage Wars Texas and Duck Dynasty.
Let me tell you. I had high hopes for this summer. I had picked out my dream pool. I was so over the moon about this pool! It has this super laid-back, relaxed vibe, and I just knew once we joined we could become relaxed and laid-back too.
What? It could happen. I love a vegan hot dog.
Well, funny thing about those relaxed, laid-back hippies:
You evidently have to have to wake up pretty early in the morning to achieve that laid-back relaxed thing. On the morning that new memberships opened, I logged on to the site at 9:30 am to discover that all of the spots had sold out…in SIX MINUTES. Apparently this is the first summer in the history of the pool that this has happened. But of course.
At least we’re on the wait list for next year. So we decided to also get on the wait list for other pools. One of these pools required not one but two (TWO!) pool members to vouch for our moral character. Amazingly we found two people who aren’t aware that we’re secret serial killers who like to pee in public pools for fun. Assuming the membership director doesn’t read this blog, we should be offered a spot sometime in the next twelve to eighteen months.
But what the hell are we going to do this summer? I can’t go an entire summer with a toddler and an eight year old boy without a pool!
So, yes, it’s one more summer with the hipster hotel pool scene, and I do mean scene. The pool at the Capitol Hill Skyline Hotel — where singles go for drinks and Spike burgers and families go…in the morning.
You know what? We went and actually had a fabulous time. In the morning, it’s not too hot yet. The kids were happy. I was relaxed and laid-back. So take that hippies.
But as the hours crept on the singles slowly wander in. They all take one look at the families left in the pool and roll their eyes before stripping down and liquoring up. But that’s all right — I know how this works. As they come in, we quietly slip out. Like any good mother, I’ll strip down and drink my liquor in the privacy of my own home, thank you very much.