1 pool, 10 children, 4 adults. You do the math. I just don't remember the children being quite this annoying when I was young.
1. First, there's Eli. He mostly stands in the corner of the shallow end with his overly large board shorts pulled up to his nipples, proclaiming that he's peeing his pants on purpose.
We don't like Eli very much.
2. Then there's Klepto Karen. She's the angelic little mite trying to abscond with everyone else's pool toys.
Karen: I take this?
Karen: I play with it?
Karen: Mommy, I can have noodle?
Karen's mommy: (drunk and passed out in a pool of suntan oil)
me: Let me speak for your mommy here. NO.
3. Then there's this one sullen girl who doesn't speak. She's right on the cusp of puberty and spends most of her time doing slow-motion handstands in which everyone is forced to stare at her crotch. She just bobs there upside down like a confused raft, and my daughter asks me why she has weird hair on her bottom, and I say maybe it's time for a sandwich.
4. Ashley. Can't tell if it's a boy or a girl. Wears board shorts and a rash guard and Speedo goggles and a strange device that holds its nose closed, because I guess in 2011, kids are too busy to hold their freaking breath. Ashley spends most of its time loping from the pool to the ocean and back and being yelled at by disembodied, somewhat drunk voices that we presume are parents.
5. Alyssa. Don't call her Alanna. You'll never hear the end of it.
6. Captain Reckless. I don't know her name. She just does dangerous flips off the side of the pool into the extra shallow bit, nearly killing herself every time. She screams, "EVERYBODY LOOK WHAT I CAN DO!", and all the adults cringe and stare at the skimmer, wondering who will end up scooping this girl's brains out while someone tries to find her parents and ask if they're professional daredevils or what.
7, 8. Teenagers trying to get cancer in as many ways as possible while forcing innocent people to look at their sunburned wedgies.
9, 10. My children, who are perfect cherubs, except when they hit me in the face with water pistols. But they're kind of misfits, because they're mine.
Oh, and I guess I'm 11.
Or close enough. But when I dive in the shallow end, I point somewhere else and tell my kids to look at the pelican. I'm sneaky like that.