Doggy Paddling

It’s pool day.

I grab my towel, sunblock and other essentials.  Then I head to the closet.

The cute pink bikini hangs there forlornly.  I stare at it longingly, and realize how little it’s been actually worn since I bought it.  As I do so often these days, I opt for the plain, sensible one-piece instead.

At the pool, I stand at the water’s edge.  I dip my toe in to test the temperature.  Some days it’s well heated.  Today, as it has been lately, the water is frigid.

I’m resolved, though.  I try to be brave as I jump in.  I envision myself doing a graceful swan dive into the waters.  Instead, I belly flop.  Big time.

I come up for air, water dripping from my nose in a very un-Bo Derek like way.  A 10 I am not… today.  My makeup’s already running down my face.  The chlorine has made my eyes sting.

As I try to make my way to the other side of the pool, I realize I’ve forgotten how to swim.  Some weeks I rock the backstroke and the butterfly.  Lately, all I can manage is a simple doggy paddle.

As I flounder around in the cold water, I try to navigate around all the things that seem to be floating in the pool.

The mounds of laundry piling up.  And the matching socks that I know are in there somewhere.

The pizza delivery boxes.  I haven’t had a chance to go to the grocery store in weeks.  We’ve been eating a lot of pizza lately.

The diaper pail that positively reeks.  I’ve been meaning to empty it before it spontaneously combusts.  I never seem to get around to it.

The posts in my Google reader that are multiplying like horny little rabbits.

The emails that have gone unanswered and unread for far too long.  I fear the bottom of my email inbox got lost in the deep end of the pool.

The car that needs an oil change.  The bills that need to be paid.  The garbage that needs to go out.  And that diaper pail that absolutely needs to be emptied.

Someone’s kid has peed in the water.  I suspect it’s probably one of mine.

I tread water for a minute more, before I start to cramp up.  I let my feet sink to the bottom of the pool.  And that’s when I realize I’m standing in the shallow end.

All this time, I’ve been doggy paddling.  And all I really had to do was stand up.

I decide I’ve had enough for the day.  I get out, towel off, and slip on my sensible terrycloth cover-up.  Bless those cover-ups.  They hide all sorts of flaws.

I leave the pool wondering if it was a bad idea to even come in the first place.  Which is silly, really.  Because I come to the pool every day.

As I leave, though, I wonder what it will be like tomorrow.

Will the water be murky?  Will it be cold?  Will I sink, swim or doggy paddle?

Will tomorrow be the day I get to break out that little pink bikini?

20 thoughts on “Doggy Paddling”

  1. First- you are an amazing writer. Second – how in the hell does Google Reader do that so quickly??? I had to click the read all button on several blogs today, and my favorites got priority, because seriously, they do multiply like rabbits. You got this momma!

  2. You are such a great writer!

    I love that you both make me laugh and make me think.

    And definitely stand up, climb out of the pool and don your pink bikini!

  3. Oh, sister. Get the bikini on. Whether you swim or not. Just do it.

    The crap murking up the water? Well, it can come or go, but you’ll look hot facing it.

  4. My diaper pail has been retired because of its stink. Which is how I found a dirty diaper on my nightstand when I came home last night.

    So yeah, my water is frigid.

  5. This was some good writing! Put on the bikini and take a friend and just stand around and talk in the pool. That’s what God intended pools for. Seriously.

  6. I swim once a week and always end up thinking all sorts of odd things while I do. I, too, rock the sensible one piece most of the time. Bikinis were meant for posing in- nothing more. 😉

  7. Thoughts come out of nowhere, when you’re relaxed or doing relaxing things, I think.

    For me, It’s always in the shower. I keep a notebook in there, it happens so much.

    And I get the idea you’d look great in a pink bikini. And I’m sure your husband would agree.

  8. Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to go swimming until at least an hour after you’ve shucked your chores? If it’s any consolation to you – at least your diapers are in a pail. My boy likes to leave his at the foot of my bed.

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