E and I stopped by my parents’ place to take care of the pool in their absence. By “take care of the pool” I mean “dip the test strip, look at the reference chart, try to figure out which bottle of stuff I should be using to fix whatever’s wrong, and then dump in a few kilograms of whatever it is I think the pool needs.” It feels like I should be a bit more scientific about it, but my way is working so far.
(Although yesterday and three days ago I dumped in, like, twelve kilos of salt and today when we swam I was floating more easily than usual and a scrape on my arm was burning, so that might have been a bit much. Oops. It’s still not as salty as the ocean.)
We decided that before adding the Alkalinity Increaser that the pool apparently needed, we’d take a short swim. At first I figured only E would swim while I watched her, so I said, “Oh, don’t bother with your bathing suit. Just jump in naked. It’s only the two of us here.”
(Don’t worry, the pool is not in any way exposed such that anybody can see us.)
A few minutes later, though, I decided to dip my toes. The water was deliciously cool; I decided to join E for a while.
“You can skinny-dip too, you know,” E said.
“If someone’s kind of chunky, can they call it chunky dunking instead?” I mused aloud.
E huffed, “No, it’s still skinny dipping.”
“But I wanna go chunky dunking!” I protested.
“Eema,” she said with all the patience usually reserved for reasoning with a two-year-old, “You’re not that fat… for a grown-up.”
“Fine, call it whatever you want,” I said with my dress halfway over my head, “I’m coming in!”
It was fabulous.
I will pause here and say that yes, the fact that “you’re not that fat” made me feel good is problematic in itself. Fat is an adjective, like tall or short. That it affects my self-worth is unfortunate. I’m working on it. And for those of you reading this, don’t say “you’re not fat” to someone, unless you’re trying to reinforce the fact that fat is a terrible thing to be.
Anyhow, it was what I needed to hear after last night’s musings. If only I could always see myself the way my kids see me.
Before I go, I’ll leave you with this picture of me, a wrecking bar, and a pair of wire cutters. Anybody want to guess what I was doing today?