To take your family to the pool, you should begin packing about two weeks before you leave. This might seem like overkill given that the pool is only two minutes from your house, but this gives you plenty of time to lose everything before you leave.
Now that everything is lost, order replacements and hope they get there on the right day. Now it’s crunch time.
Begin to pack your swim bag. Pack the SPF 5000 for your paranoid wife, the SPF 2 for you, and the SPF Infinity for the baby. Then pack the real sunscreen that is the right brand and strength because none of them know the difference anyway. They just saw something on Facebook and now you’re dealing with questions about whether that mole you’ve had since birth is skin cancer.
Next, pack your two extra chargers for your cell phone because you know that’s where you’re going to be spending most of your time. Also pack the decoy battery that you’ll give your teenage daughter, so she’ll get off her phone and stop sending you TikToks. Throw a couple of broken charging cords in there as well because it’s always nice to give them false hope.
The last step in packing the bag is dropping it at least twelve times on the way to your car so you have to repack everything.
Tell your three children it’s time to go to the pool. As they get their swimsuits on, check to make sure they all have hats, shades, and a full-body hazmat suit because, again, the wife has a thing about skin cancer and how it’s going to strike any minute. Gear the family up like they are about to wander the apocalyptic wasteland and you’re looking for the last can of beans.
Now that the family is ready to go, it’s time to pack your load donkey. This animal will dutifully follow your minivan all the way to the pool as it lugs the absolute load of crap that you have to bring. Place the tube around its neck, the swan tube can be tied to its head, towels in the saddle bag, snacks on its hind-quarters, and then several pool noodles can trail behind it like a “Just Married” sign. Feed the donkey a carrot because he’s sick of your family’s crap, too.
Take five minutes to answer your middle son’s questions.
“Where are we going?” he will say as he stands there in his swimming trunks.
“To the pool,” you’ll answer.
“Which pool?” he’ll ask.
“The one we go to almost every day.”
“Oh.”
“Ready to go?” you’ll ask.
“Where are we going?”
Next, ask you’re youngest if he wants to bring his swimming goggles that you hate.
“No,” he’ll reply.
“Are you sure?” you’ll say.
“Yes, I’m sure. Gosh dad, let’s go!”
Next, try to check with your teenage daughter but as you are outside now she is embarrassed by your Hawaiian shirt and doesn’t want anything to do with you.
Tell everyone to get into the car. Reassure your wife that you put sunscreen on the minivan, and it should be fine. Wait approximately 2 years for your family to actually get in the minivan. You don’t know how this happens or how time seems to stop, but it does. The simple act of opening a car door, tying up your load donkey, and getting in a set is really difficult for your family.
Pull out of the driveway and then immediately pull back in because one of your sons forgot to put on swimming trunks. Repeat all of the above and try again.
Once on the road, listen to the argument about what to play on the radio even though this trip takes literally seconds. Recognize that Olivia Rodrigo is awesome, Tay Tay is still the queen, and that Baby Shark should make a comeback. When you get frustrated, you’ll know because the donkey will start yelling, too, put on some Metallica, and tell everyone to suck it up. Pull into the parking lot for your neighborhood pool the minute the song starts.
Unload your minivan and donkey but set the poor beast free so he doesn’t have to do this anymore. Give him sunscreen first, though. As the kids and your wife all run to the pool, place everything on your back and follow after them.
You’ll begin to feel overconfident at this point because you secretly packed the cooler without any input, and it has all your favorite drinks and snacks. When you get to the pool gate, accidentally drop the cooler so that the ice falls out and your special Slim-Jims lands in dog poo. Those were going to be good, too.
Now get everyone out of the pool so you can actually put sunscreen on them. It goes on really easy when everyone is already wet.
Finally, finish your pool day by having the following conversation with your youngest son.
“Dad, did you bring my goggles?” he’ll ask.
“No,” you’ll say. “You said you didn’t want them.”
“I need them!”
“But…”
Stop arguing because he’s now crying and your job as dad is to make everything better. Get back in the car and head back to the house to get the goggles.
While driving, you’ll get a text from your wife asking you to pick up more sunscreen. By the time you get to the pool, the family should be just about done. Congratulations on a successful pool day.
You get to do it again tomorrow.
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