So Joe and I decided to sign up our boys for swim team and Tuesday was the suit fitting for their team swim suits.
I was a little nervous on Tuesday because I hate doing new things when I don’t know the protocol or the people but there I was, braving the storm and taking three children with me to try on bathing suits. However… when I got there, I found out they had practice in like fifteen minutes… like in the f-ing pool. I didn’t have towels or suits or food because, at this point, it is almost 6pm and the kids are starving.
So panic has now set in… kind of like watching a slow motion tsunami hitting a small island. Or me, running in slow motion and falling on my face trying to get to the bar before last call. I was a mess.
Well, let’s start with Nicholas… so sweet and shy. And he wouldn’t try on the bathing suit. Probably because I was in a frantic, rage and acting crazy and he didn’t understand that he had to leave his underwear on when trying on swim wear. Now I am telling Vincent to watch Emily while I undress and redress Nicholas in a matter of seconds.
Having Vincent watch Emily at an ice arena while all the other parents are standing in line to buy bathing suits was not the best idea. I came out of the bathroom and Vincent was jumping off of the bench and he was in mid-air when I got to him and he had already punched Emily in the eye. If I had to redo this part, I would have told Emily to watch Vincent but you live and learn.
Then it was Vincent’s turn for a lovely fashion show but he didn’t understand my hurried communication that you don’t put your junk into a suit that you are trying on. I was trying to explain from the bathroom door and he just wasn’t getting it. LEAVE YOUR UNDERWEAR ON, SON! So here I was, now in the men’s room trying to get my son into some jammers. It’s worse than trying to put a condom on your man. Dear God. But it didn’t end there. Why would it?
So now, I am back out in the ice arena paying for the bathing suits and frantically waiting for my husband to bring towels and suits but luckily they had one bathing suit in Vincent’s size… so it was back into the men’s room. And now I am shoving all of his clothing in my purse. Yeah, if I got stopped by the cops at this point, there would be a lot of questions because I randomly have children’s underwear and clothes in my purse… it leads to a lot of questions. Unfortunately, Nicholas could not grasp the concept that they didn’t have a suit for him in his size.
Sixty-five dollars later and I am at a parent meeting. One kid in a suit, one kid with no suit and a little girl who is so hungry she just keeps telling me how hungry she is. Then a friend suggested that Nicholas (the suit-less one) just go in his clothes. Great idea! I pose this to Nicholas and he, of course, refuses.
Meanwhile, I am still waiting for my husband to come with towels. And Emily is hanging on me and Nicholas and her want to go into the baby pool and no one can understand that the freaking pool is ‘technically’ closed! Come on people… get it together!
So Vincent gets in the pool and does fairly well. He doesn’t drown so I feel like that’s a plus, however out of the thirty kids, the instructor knew his name within minutes.
Joe finally comes with a towel and informs me that all of the suits are actually in my car from the beach. Man if looks could kill, I would be a widow because he was the one that set this all up. But who am I to place blame? Just kidding… I placed blame.
Nicholas finally gets a suit on and he doesn’t drown either which is a plus because he was convinced that he was going to die. I think it helped that he had a death grip on the instructor.
Then Vincent had to pee and that he is hungry. So as we are going to and from the bathroom, I am feeding him dinner, which consisted of Cheetos. I just keep shoving Cheetos down his throat- he needs energy for Godsakes because it is 7pm!
Then my dear, sweet husband turns to me and asks what we should do for dinner. Are you really asking me that because I might be eating you for dinner… and not in a kinky way… more like, I might murder you and eat my victim way. I turn my head ever so lovingly and say, ‘we will go to McDonald’s tonight.’ I think by his terrified look in his eye, he understood.
Finally swimming is over. The boys get out victorious and we head for the car. They are clearly thirsty from their near death experiences but I am not a healthy person, so instead of water, my kids are replenishing their bodies with Dr. Pepper. Nothing says rehydrate like a carbonated beverage.
So all in all, I learned that communication is number one in a marriage and murdering your husband should be a close second.
Until next time,
I will be having fun at the pool… with a flask and french fries.