We've been talking about "having pizza and going to the pool for dinner" all summer. We tried it last week but didn't beat the summer afternoon thunderstorm, and we enjoyed the pizza in our car instead. It's surprising how small our seven passenger van is; I ended up eating my pizza sitting all squished on the center console.
Last Friday, per-hurricane, we tried again. It was a success, until a little boy tried to remove Lucy from his swimming ring and all sorts of tears resulted. At first I was a little annoyed with the boy's mother, who was about thirty seconds too slow in intervening in the fiasco. (He was pulling the tube with her inside of it, Lucy was falling into the water shouting "I'm trying to get out!", and I'd not put my swimming suit on that day so I couldn't jump into the pool to referee effectively.) Then, after Lucy wailed for - no kidding - half an hour, I felt a little sorry for myself and for the mother and a lot sorry for a too-tired, slightly-scared Lucy.
We have one more week left at the pool, and Irene has left us some absolutely gorgeous fall-like weather. It's not pool weather, not at all, and I have to decide if I (1) go to the pool anyway, despite the cool temperatures, only to last twenty minutes before everyone's lips turn blue or (2) decide that last Friday was our final pool visit, and while it's nice to go out with pizza! it's not so great to go out with a crying little one.
I think we'll try again.
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