Sinkers

My sister Kelly and her family came down to visit and as a last hurrah, we wanted to get our kids together to go swimming at the local rec center. We get there, get all lotioned up and spend a good amount of time outside before the kids decide to try out the indoor pool. We (two adults, 5 kids) were hanging out in a corner of that warm pool, when all of a sudden, all the life guards jumped down from their perches and blew their whistles mightily.

"Everybody out!"

I told the kids that it must be time for the chlorine check (do they even do that anymore?) and we all headed across the pool, towards the stairs so we could get out. We find our towels and start drying off and we notice about five of the lifeguards peering into the area of water that we just walked through to get to the stairs. I see one guy holding his hands in the shape of, well, a log. You heard me, a log. Then he points back into the water, assuring the others that this was indeed the very spot he had spied the offending pile.

We stretched our necks and tried to look, and sure enough, there it was, only no longer in log form. Now we have broken up chunks drifting about on the bottom of the pool. My sister, the nursing student, who is knowledgeable and calm about all things medical and bodily, just nods her heads and proclaims,

"Oh, yeah, it's pieces of feces."

I burst out laughing at the rhyme, but inside I was so grossed out, realizing that our towels had been drying poo water off of our bodies.

"Are we going home now?", the kids wanted to know.

"No, we're going back outside to have a dip in the chlorine bath, I mean the pool. Swirl around alot, honey."

N. A. S. T. Y.

Don'tcha just love swimming pools?