For various reasons, or various amounts of money, Dad has not bought a permanent pool for the family. So every season, they struggle to assemble the pool and then have to drain it and take it down at the end of the summer.
Saturday was that day.
They had started the week before, draining it all out, and now what had to come down was the shell of the pool.
In doing this, Mom ripped a fingernail (which aren’t long to begin with) down to the quick, Jamie got hollered at, and Dad finally hied himself off to the backyard to help.
Naturally, I came with. I helped take down the pool. As the remainder of the water leaked over the sides, my humans yelled, “Maggie, move!” So I did. Closer and closer. I’m sure that’s what they wanted. How could they do it without me?
The original plan was for Dad and Jamie to disassemble the pool and Mom to brush out the liner with bleach, spray it with the hose, and let it dry a day or two. Since absolutely nothing went smoothly, or on time, and Mom was hurt and bleeding, she finally snapped. “Throw it away and next year I would like a REAL POOL,” she said to Dad. Who laughed and said the dreaded, “We’ll see”.
Saying, “We’ll see” to Mom is kind of like throwing gas on the fire. So, now Mom is doubly adamant.
Oh – by the way – about the tree that fell on our fence: no one ever got back to us about that. So Mom is going to find out if the Jesters are going to cut the protruding branches off. Nothing like red tape from our city officials!
Woof! Love, Maggie-who-was-clever-enough-not-to-get-wet (but can’t say the same for Dad).