Perils lurking at the Pool

So Tot and I had to get out of the house today to escape the fumes of the slate sealer. We left Mr. Tot to fry his excess brain cells and headed to the pool. Little did I know the perils awaiting me there. After a half hour of escorting her up the stairs of the small slide, running around and catching her in the water at the bottom, explaining that No, you’re not allowed on the big slide 20-bazillion times, encouraging her to blow bubbles, but NO no, don’t drink the water, help her out of the pool, catch her jumping in, make sure she’s not going under water despite her built-in birck-shaped floaties in her swimsuit which make her look a bit like a monkey in a barrel, try to avoid all the flailing especially when she’s resisting help, we headed to the family locker room to try to revert her now-blue lips back to pink. Each shower stall in the family locker room is huge, with a big built-in bench in one corner on which we put all our stuff, and a hand-held shower in the other corner. I get the shower going and my brain must have had a momentary black-out, because I handed tot the shower head. Duhhh. Guess I figured I could run interference and she could have some fun. Have I mentioned my short memory span before? I had already forgotten that I needed to stand guard, and I go to pull tot’s clothes out of my black hole of a gym bag so I can get her dressed after she’s done and before she freezes. Whoosh – water’s coming my way and I’m not blocking the clothes… Her clothes are fine of course, my pants are soaking wet. Ah joy. I put the shower head back in it’s child-proof holder, while the horse was busily romping out of the barn, if you know what I mean. Then while I’m vigorously drying her off and trying to get her dressed before she freezes to death, AHHHHH!! I jump a foot and a half in shock. She tweaked my nipple!!! Must have been trying the nozzle, after all, it used to be the dairy bar! She looks up at me with this devilish, self-satisfied gleeful grin that stretched from ear to ear, all hunkered down, poised to jump me and do it again. I couldn’t help but bust out laughing, until she did do it again, THEN I was moved to act. Quick dry and grab that bra – QUICK!!! Whew, that’s the end of that. I continue trying to dress her – until she reaches inside my bra and tweaks AGAIN. TAZ!! STOP IT!!! My shirt was on in less an 2 seconds. Jeepers I have to move fast to stay ahead of her. So now, hours later, my pants are dry and my heart beat is back to normal, and I’m just happy to have survived another day in the Tot-verse. Is there hazardous duty pay for this?


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