And, seeing as how this is our first summer in the neighbourhood, we're getting our money's worth. We were the first in the pool this morning, swimming for two hours before the next families arrived. Raley and I bailed to snooze after one hour, but Jenine and William could have splashed on all day. Just as it got warm and the just-graduated-high-school teenage girls started arriving (be still my lecherous
Holy cow, does swimming wear you out or what? Not that I can swim, but perhaps flailing is even more exhausting than swimming. It's a fun way to get a workout, throwing William around the pool and running laps holding Raley.
I grew up near the sea. Cleaning stinky salt water off you is a big motivation for washing after swimming. With a pool, though, there's always the temptation to just skip the washup afterward. Bad move. I scratched one of my legs to a pulp today before I realized "oh, I have a thin film of hydrochloric acid eating into them. No wonder they're itchy."
Like Mork, I'm not familiar with the ways and customs of suburbia. Unlike Mork, I don't get to bang Mindy. But my life is being taped before a live studio audience, so perhaps there are some similarities after all.