This morning it was 80 degrees at 9 a.m. and like a good mother, I went outside and started filling the pool. I went inside to finish getting ready to take Mary to school, because the kids were inside and I could see the pool, slowly filling, from the bathroom window.
I questioned my sanity as I ran the flat iron over my hair. It looked fantastic. Then the warm humid air blew gently in the window and brought my head back to looking like a shrubbery. I gave up, turned off the iron, loaded the kids into the car and drove Mary to school.
Anna, Lily and I had a pleasant morning visiting a couple of kids' consignment stores (really, stores? You're going to charge me $7 for a used Gymboree knit top from two summers ago when the new ones are on promotion in the mall for under $6? Okay) and then picking up some much needed cleaning supplies and baby food from Target.
It was 11:40 when we got back into the car. Lily was fussing. Anna looked tired. Mary was not due to be picked up until 12:15. I contemplated what to do.
"Okay, Anna," I said. "Let's go look for horses for a little while (this means driving around the area farms) and then we'll go get Mary, have some peanut butter and jelly for lunch and then we'll go in the pool!"
The tiny, soft sided kiddie pool which had been merrily filling since 9:30 a.m. because my brain is full of swiss cheese, apparently.
"Crap!" I hollered and immediately dialed the number of my next door neighbor as I peeled out of the parking lot, making a beeline for home, which is 15 minutes away, in the opposite direction from preschool.
"Hi, Jason, it's Kim from next door," I babbled at the sound of the tone. "And I forgot to turn off the backyard hose two hours ago and I'm heading home but HITTING EVERY LIGHT IN TOWN so if you get this and my backyard is flooding could you please turn my hose off? Thanks talk to you later bye!"
"Mommy I don't see horses."
I made it home in record time despite hitting literally every red light that exists between Target and casa Cirque du Trois. I ran out of the car, bolted into the backyard, where I saw water lipping over the top of the pool which holds considerably more water than I could have imagined.
My sandals sank softly into the mud that was my lawn as I turned off the hose and shoved down the side of the pool to let some of the water out and allow the pool to warm. My feet were instantly under water. I slopped back to the car, threw it in reverse and made it back into town in time to get Mary.
My backyard reminds me of the Everglades, minus the alligators, at least for now.
And after all that, where did we spend the afternoon?
The neighbor's house, playing with her kids.
I am going to cringe in a couple of months when we get the water bill,
since the city council opted to raise water rates and I'm pretty sure
that my last bill reflected an amount that can only indicate a hidden
water park I somehow supplied during the winter.
Well, maybe I can rent out airboat rides.