Dada…Dammit: Issue 4-Promise

I promised my daughter we’d go swimming. This is a big thing for me-mainly because I dread taking her to the pool. Have i mentioned my anxiety? I don’t like being around people. A pool with dozens of people is a huge no no for me. I like my space. So just getting her ready; covered from head-to-toe in lotion can be a chore unto itself. There’s no one to lotion up my back either so I’ve grown to the point of lotioned forearms and diving in with a t-shirt. It looks quite spontaneous when I’m double checking my pockets for an iPhone, keys, or wallet after I’m in the pool, even though I know I don’t have them on me, but I could. By this stage, the promise has been engaged. She’s in the pool. We’re essentially having fun. And luckily there’s only one or two grandparent couples around. We are all-good.

Of course, there’s no such thing as all-good for a stay-at-home parent. Youre always on duty and with a four-year-old there’s no telling what is around the corner. Although at the pool, barring an accident, there’s one of three possibilities; puke, piss/poop, or spit. Puking can’t be helped and unless something didn’t agree with the child it can be safely ruled out. The latter two possibilities depend on the child’s judgment. Judgment that’s not always too good.

After running back and forth between the adult and kiddie pool twenty-times and near-pissing…

“Do you gotta go?”



“No. I farted.”


By this point I’m starving. I had made hamburger patties for dinner per request from the wife albeit that request changed to crumbled hamburger as that was originally requested. Ahem. Again, I was hungry. Anything at this stage, I repeat, anything, any minor infraction would be used to go back to the room. More specifically spitting in the pool. The first site of drool brought on our first and only warning:
Stern and to the point. I wiped my daughters mouth. Of course that didn’t stop it. The second sign of spittal I snatched her up and out of the pool we went…as quietly as possible. I brushed off an initial whimper. And back to the room. Where a bath must begin. And the new crumbled hamburger must be made. While talking the misses on her way home. And my daughter making me soup in the tub.
Alas, after everything is settled-dry and clean child, food finished, helped carry items inside, the family can rest easy for dinner…after a promised day at the pool.