As long as I get to keep my voice.
I spent 3 hours this morning doing domestic chores for my surrogate grandparents who live down the street. It is hot (old people are always cold, thus they rarely turn on the AC) and tedious work, but they are so happy when I come over and I think it really helps them.
Mrs. Miller (surrogate nana) has this mop, the string kind, that was old and grey and falling apart when I started doing stuff for her in 4th grade. I finally mentioned I thought it was time to replace the thing. She looked at it as thought she'd never seen it before and said
"Hmmm. There it is."
I don't know what that meant, but I put "mop" on her grocery list.
When I came home sweaty, dirty, and snottier than 13 year-old Paris Hilton (I'm allergic to dust and they have plenty) I jumped into the pool. Clothes and shoes still on. I think all the work that goes into pool upkeep the rest of the year is worth it for the couple of times in the summer when jumping in is as close to Nirvana as a white girl like me could ever hope to come.
I forgot how blissful it is to be weightless and cool and (forgive me) wet. If you have long hair that adds yet another delicious facet to the experience. Hair swirling around your head makes you feel like a mermaid just as it did when you were 8. I remember sitting on the pool bottom as a child looking through blurry vision at Janene across from me with her dark hair reaching for the surface like so much sargassum.
I had 30 bucks in my pants and didn't remember until I'd gotten out and the pool vacuum already sucked it up. Luckily, I used my razor sharp logic skills to empty the leaf basket. Crisis averted.
Mrs. Miller (surrogate nana) has this mop, the string kind, that was old and grey and falling apart when I started doing stuff for her in 4th grade. I finally mentioned I thought it was time to replace the thing. She looked at it as thought she'd never seen it before and said
"Hmmm. There it is."
I don't know what that meant, but I put "mop" on her grocery list.
When I came home sweaty, dirty, and snottier than 13 year-old Paris Hilton (I'm allergic to dust and they have plenty) I jumped into the pool. Clothes and shoes still on. I think all the work that goes into pool upkeep the rest of the year is worth it for the couple of times in the summer when jumping in is as close to Nirvana as a white girl like me could ever hope to come.
I forgot how blissful it is to be weightless and cool and (forgive me) wet. If you have long hair that adds yet another delicious facet to the experience. Hair swirling around your head makes you feel like a mermaid just as it did when you were 8. I remember sitting on the pool bottom as a child looking through blurry vision at Janene across from me with her dark hair reaching for the surface like so much sargassum.
I had 30 bucks in my pants and didn't remember until I'd gotten out and the pool vacuum already sucked it up. Luckily, I used my razor sharp logic skills to empty the leaf basket. Crisis averted.