Moms that don’t get wet

Part II, Scenes from the Pool

I didn’t notice it right away. We were well into our first summer at the pool when it hit me. I was standing there, grinnin’ like a possum with water streaming out of my mostly white hair as the kids "cracked eggs" on my head (water-filled squishy balls), when I happened to catch the eye of one of the other moms sitting at poolside. There was something like horror in her expression as she looked at me. I had seen her before — lots of times, actually. She was one of the pool moms I saw every time we came. And in all those times, I had never seen her get in the pool. There were lots of them, actually.

Some of them sat on the edge while their children played. A few even gingerly waded in waist-deep, cringing at errant splashes. But they never, absolutely never, got their hair wet.

I had more occasion to study this last summer when I actually got to go to the pool during the week, when I’m normally working. There they were, in their perfect little swimsuits and hats, still not getting wet. They just sat there, chatting with each other and interacting with their kids briefly during break times.

And this is what really freaked me out: despite all that sitting in the sun, some of them never seemed to get more tanned. A few do have that leathery look, but the others seem to be covered with some clear shield that deflects sunlight.

It’s like some aquatic version of the Stepford Wives.

It’s been a couple of years now, and there really are some other moms like me — who play shark, let their kids dunk them, and generally wash away all shreds of dignity. But we’re definitely a minority. Three words, people:

IT’S A POOL. It’s for swimming. 

So please don’t look at me like I’m a freak for getting wet.