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My Community Pool

 The local pool is staffed by half-sleeping teenagers, and my daughter uses this to her advantage. She approaches the snack bar and demands both a Krispie marshmallow square and a ring pop.


A well-adjusted adult might question this. But the teenager just hands the items to Susie before my husband can intervene. Susie has passed the point of no return.

Teenagers aside, this pool has quite a bit going for it. There are bright patches of mysterious tropical flowers. A far corner involves a perilously high "high dive"; for my daughter, that corner is a source of awe and terror. My son is so excited to splash in the kiddie pool, he actually begins to bounce on the toes of his feet. For him, clearly, there isn't a moment of worry about being observed or judged.

Given that I'm a tutor, I have made some academic observations, and I have grave concerns about our local curriculum. It's not a shock to me that the pool's social media efforts are sketchy; if the social media team is made up of local teens, then I know they have not spent the school year stretching (really stretching) their minds. The issue is that one "account" has info that another lacks; if you see on Facebook that the pool is open, you should feel skeptical and you should check Instagram, just in case there is a codicil that has redefined the word "open" as a synonym for "not open." This actually happens--it happens multiple times per summer. Each time, there is a cry of outrage from local parents; each time, the cry loses steam and is forgotten. It's comforting to observe all of this--it's like taking part in a ritual.

I love my community pool.
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