As of Saturday, June 2, I have a pool. I am very proud of this fact, as evidenced by my need to immediately inform the world at large of my newfound swankiness.
My new pool may only be a kiddie pool — okay, it is a kiddie pool — but it is the Cadillac of kiddie pools. Even better than that, it is the Cadillac of kiddie pools if that Cadillac was a Mercedes.
The pool is 12 feet long, about half as wide, and shaped like an ocean-going yacht with a curved prow, an illusion that is only partially spoiled by the fact that when full of water, it appears to be a yacht in the process of sinking on dry land because all of the water is inside it. It is quite the marvel of maritime engineering, and most likely the result of a design room well-stocked with hallucinogenic drugs.
It has not only a slide, but a separate pool lounging area for adults to supervise frolicking children without actually sharing the same pool water with them. This is an important feature, as just about the first thing my grandson did in the new pool was pee in it. He’s delightful, and I love him with all my heart, but like all little boys, he’s a nasty critter, and I prefer to keep the swimming areas of different age groups separate, and hopefully, not equal.
Back in the adult VIP area, we have a built-in sofa that has reclining capabilities if one is fat enough to push back the inflatable backrest while resting on it. And we have two cupholders. I am beside myself with joy that I have scored a kiddie pool with two — count them — two factory-installed cupholders. None of that tacky after-market crap for me and my upscale friends. We are going strictly top shelf here.
I first spotted the pool at Costco a month or so ago. They had one blown up and suspended from the ceiling, where it drew me across the store like a moth to a flame. But it was still cold out, it had been raining for a month with no letting up in sight, and I wasn’t sure the sun still existed, much less if it would ever come out again if it did, and the pool cost $40. Which is a lot to pay for a kiddie pool when it’s cold and raining. Even for the Mercedes of Cadillac kiddie pools.
So I didn’t buy it, but never stopped thinking about it, even though I know you only get one chance with seasonal merch at Costco. Better buy it when you see it, cause it won’t be there when you come back. Except, this time it was.
Saturday, when I walked into the store, even though I knew there was no hope, I looked straight over to see if the pool was still swinging from the rafters, and despite the odds, there it was in all its glory.
I navigated across the store as fast as the cart would go with two little kids in it, and lo and behold, there was a $10 instant coupon attached to the last seven pools left in stock. So now that the sun was out and it was hot outside, the pool was only $30. I didn’t need to be Bill Engvall to know a sign when I saw one. I mean, it was literally a sign. A sign that said $10 off. So I slung one of the pools in the cart, and off we went.
Despite an initial miscalculation as to the usefulness of a bicycle pump in inflating a 12×6 pool, a borrowed portable air compressor had us in business in fairly short order. With a capacity of 237 gallons for a pool without a pump and a filter which is going to need more or less constant refilling, I may have to take out a second mortgage to pay the water bill, but that is a problem for next month.
One friend told me to call the town and tell them I have a pool now so they won’t charge me sewer fees on the water used to fill the pool, but the pool is sitting right in front of the house, so that plan doesn’t sound very promising. I think I’m going to look into purchasing a rain barrel instead. I’ve been wanting one to water my garden anyway. I have questions as to whether water that has been on the roof of the house is all that sanitary, but considering it’s probably going to be peed in, maybe that’s not a critical issue.
Micah loved it. He absolutely loved it. He’s four and a half, and he’s autistic, so it’s never easy for me to know what he will enjoy in the way of toys and playthings. But it was easy to see this was a slam dunk winner. Raucous child laughter every time one of the grownups splashed him from our reclined built-in banquette in the pee-free zone, adjacent to our handy-dandy cupholders. He’d shriek and jump out of the pool until he was out of range, and then slowly creep back in closer, so we could repeat the procedure to the same riotous laughter.
Then he’d wait until the adults were chatting among ourselves, and he’d launch a sneak attack and soak us with a big splash of peed-in water from his side of the pool.
It was so much fun I could almost forget how disgusting it was, because for a moment, I was a nasty little critter again myself.
Reach Bill Colvard at 336-415-4699.