Thursday, May 31, 2012

A New Summer Series For the Easily Horrified

Afternoon Readers,

     I just ran out of Diet Coke and Twizzlers, so I'll make this as quick as possible...or not, as I just realized the kitchen is really far away, like twelve feet or something. I've heard of people dying on suicide missions like that. Yesterday brought with it our first excursion to the pool, the baby pool, that is. And since I'll be spending most of my summer in that concrete mecca of piddle and dive sticks, I've decided to start a small series to allow you lucky few the inside look at what really goes on in the baby pool...

*and the crowd goes wild*

Ok, crowd, stop going wild...

*the crowd still going wild*

If you're finished, Paige Kellerman productions is proud to present:
Letters From the Shallow End of the Baby Pool
Part I: I'm Sorry We Splashed Your Baby

May 31,2012

Dear Madam of the Large Floral Suit And Nasty Disposition,

     I'm sorry Sundance splashed your baby. I'd warned her not to get water all over the other kids because some of them don't realize that what they're walking in is, in fact, a pool.
     
     Probably what I feel worst about is that your child is now scarred for life and recovery is a long road. I should know, I dream about cigarettes and I'm six months pregnant. You should tell her what an old Indian scout once told me, "Don't chase the dragon unless it's cardboard.

...That usually gets me through a week or two.

     Also, I'd like to apologize, as we never settled who was responsible for that fresh crack in the concrete when we both sat down. If they ask, we can blame faulty construction, but you and I both know the power of two unwieldy posteriors thrown to the ground at the same time. I looked at you. You looked at me. But that didn't stop thirty beach chairs from sliding into the abyss.

     Also, your son looked like Harry Potter, if  J.K. Rowling had written Harry Potter as someone who didn't play Quidditch or enjoy physical activity.

     Also, you should buy him a silly sunhat like you did your baby so he can't see water coming at his face either. At least then Sundance would be guilty of something noble like starting an Old West-style saloon/baby/pool/bar fight.
     
     Again, I'm sorry my baby splashed your baby, but life's hard and water goes everywhere when a baby hits it with her fist...or cups it in her hands and throws it at another person's eyes...potato, pototo.

Sincerely,

Paige

Until Next Time, Readers!