Happy 4th of July, everyone!!*
*Wet firecrackers fizzle into puddle in the pouring rain.*
This year’s 4th of July was a rather damp one, but was initially very disappointing for my crew. The reason for the angst was that the rain meant a cancellation of the massive, festive and patriotic yearly extravaganza, a.k.a.,
“Aunt L’s pool party.”
My aunt & uncle’s 4th of July party has been a long-standing tradition in the family, and is a great time: horseshoes, the pool, great food, pool, great drinks, pool, lots of laughs, oh, and in case I forgot to mention, they have a
POOL.
Now we do have a membership to our local public pool, aka, “the poor man’s country club”. My father used to sarcastically refer to it as “the club” since his town lacked the classiness of a community pool, but I explained to him that since we had the misfortune of living just a few blocks shy of the REALLY FANCY-SCHMANCY community pool, complete with water slides, we are forced to make do with the standard local community pool.
We’re not the “Haves”, per se, but more fortunate than the “Have Nots”. Maybe “Have Somes”. So be it.
I’ve mentioned the town pool before, but there is something about Aunt L’s pool that makes the 4th of July one of the biggest & most exciting days for my kids.
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And I get it, because I was a kid once, too. My siblings and I couldn’t wait to hang out with our cousins *as the adults responsibly enjoyed their adult beverages while closely supervising our aquatic activities.*
(*as the adult men got wasted and disappeared to play horseshoes, leaving us to fend for ourselves in a watery, Lord of The Flies sort of way*)
Now that my cousins and I are grown and have children of our own, the game has changed. There’s a social strata; the “grown-ups” (our parents, aunts, uncles) now relax in bliss while we stand as sentries watching our kids, and try to catch snatches of conversation and food while minimizing the pool shenanigans. The older generation gets there early, and takes advantage of the peace, quiet, and calm pool, because-
…once the kids get there, it’s a bit less peaceful and a bit more of this:
Thankfully, the 6th was a beautiful, sunny day. And as we donned our patriotic gear, the words, “Is it time to go to the pool??” were uttered about…. I dunno… perhaps 2,364 times. Roughly.
And it was GREAT.
The grown-ups did their grown-up thing, wisely steering clear of the pool and staying in the shade.
The littlest ones spent their time splashing anyone who dared to step within two feet of the kiddie pool area (because yes, we have various stations. That’s how many children we have in our family now…)
And #6 enjoyed his pool time immensely; both the paddling in it, and the attempted drinking of ALL OF IT.
But the most fun was had (isn’t it always?) by the older kids, who spent every single second in the water, despite shriveling skin and blue lips.
Isn’t it funny how kids do that?? No matter how cold they get, their excitement over being in the pool supersedes any sense of self-preservation, and they insist that, no, they’re not cold, even though it’s obvious:
I’m glad that the kids have fun, but as the parent, of course there was the obligatory, “Watch me!” moments.
“Watch me do a cannonball!”
“Watch me again! How was my splash??”
(I’ll ask Uncle J, whose back you just doused…)
“Watch me do a handstand!”
“Watch me hold this water toy!”
And the first few times, I’m enthused. The kids are having fun, and I’m happy they’re having fun. And I get a kick out their water hijinks, until the umpteenth time, when it’s … less… fun…
But thankfully, there’s always that one cool family member who saves your sorry soul from the tedium by actually engaging your kids in fun; in this case, it’s Cousin A, who earned his title of “Coolest Guy Ever!!” from my kids by playing games with them, both in and out of the pool.
Every family has one; the fun, active young uncle who has a natural zest for life and all things fun that hasn’t been squelched by kids of his own yet. So awesome cousin A entertained the kiddos so that myself, The Captain, and my other parental cousins were able to take a breather (a.k.a. “eat”).
The night didn’t end with fireworks since it was, you know, Sunday, and the 6th, but my consolation was that although I missed a fireworks show in person, I saw plenty of evidence of other people’s fireworks shows.
© Copyright 2014 Six Pack Mom, All rights Reserved. Written For: SPM Writes