I Just Wanna Bang on the Drum All Day. (And Sometimes I Do.)

While you were in your offices, doing your jobs…

 

12:40 pm:

“Hey Mom, remember how you said we’d go to the wading pool at the Legislature, like I did with my daycamp, but then you never, ever took us?  Can we go now?”

Did some quick mental calculations:  hot day + the kids will keep asking me for stuff – having to do anything for them / saying yes every now and again throws them right the hell off their game = “Sure!”

 

1:30 pm:

Unleash the children on the lush, green, paid for with my tax dollars grounds of the Legislature. 

Spot the Fat Franks cart.

Desperately hope the children don’t spot it.

Hope is futile.

“Mooooom, I need a hot dog!”

Remind the children, gently, that not half an hour ago, they sat at our dining room table, refusing the hot dogs I’d made them for lunch.  May have also suggested that if these children wanted a hot dog, they might try spelunking in our garbage can, to find their previously rejected hot dogs.

“Yeah, but these ones actually, you know, taste good.”

Again, gently remind the children that people who pick their noses and eat it have zero credibility in matters culinary.

 

1:45 pm:

The girl’s favorite activity in the wading pool?  To ingest mouthfuls of water, and expel them, whale-style.

Yell at her not to do that.

“Why?”

Well, because even with the miracle that is chlorine, dear girl, you’re still ingesting water that has caressed the nether regions of many (possibly) unwashed strangers.

“I drinking butt water?”

Which the boy finds hilarious, and decides could be enhanced with a visual aid.  He accomplishes this by pulling his trunks down over his bottom, pantomiming a giant, straining crunch.  “Look,  this is how the poop gets into the water!”

It may undermine the lesson I was trying to teach, but a good poop gag always gets me in the solar plexus, and I laugh till I cry. 

 

Passers-by do not.

 

2:00 pm: 

The girl, apparently inspired by her brother’s antics, needs to visit a washroom. 

We find one, in the Interpretive Centre.

I usher the children in.

“OK, girl-child, pick a stall, and hey, look, boy-child, you can even use one of those urinals there…”

Crap.

I could have sworn there was a skirt on the door.

Hustle everyone out, praying to no one in particular that the pair of shoes under the middle stall won’t laugh at me.

“Why we can’t go in boy’s room, but brother can come in girl’s room with us?  asks the girl.

“Because!” boy child answers, exasperated.  “Women aren’t just hanging their wangs out, for everyone to see!”

“Ooohhh!”  Girl is entirely satisfied with that explanation.

 

2:10 pm:

The boy wants to try the bigger wading pool, so we move towels and associated crap.

The girl tries to get herself in, but can’t.  But she is also satisfied to try, on her own, so I can sit back and people watch for a bit.

I watch the pervy guy in sunglasses taking pictures of bikini-clad mothers.

I watch the incredibly skinny, bleached blonde on the grass picking her arm scabs.  And eating them.

And I watch the young couple frolicking in the pool, making sure people can see how young and fabulous and in love they are.  Resist the urge to join their faux-splash fight, push both their heads under water, and wait for the bubbles to stop.

 

Wow, that last one shocked me a little. Apparently, my anger is a wee bit backed up.

 

But the moral of the story is:  people are gross.  And annoying.  And the two are not mutually exclusive.

 

2:30 pm:

 

The boy approaches 2 kids playing tag in the water.

 

He asks if he can join them.

Kid A shrugs.

Kid B says, “If you come after me, I will put you IN THE HOSPITAL!”

So, way to go douchebags of the world.  You’ve successfully raised another generation of douchebags.  Good job, I guess.

 

2:45 pm: 

Girl child has full-on reached her frustration limit, and is demanding help to enter this pool.

 

The set-up is kind of sadistic. 

Climb onto a stone ledge.

Drop down onto a sole-punishing metal grate.

Hoist self up and over a 4 foot, smooth piece of stone.

Enter pool.

 

The girl insists I need to get into the pool first, then lift her in. 

I remind her I am not dressed to get in the water.

She cares not.

I lift her in as far as I can from the outside.  She refuses to stretch her toes the remaining 1/4 of an inch it would take to touch bottom.

Instead, yells things like “Why you trying to hurt me, Mommy?”  “Why you not try harder, Mommy?”  And my personal favorite, “I don’t want you to be my Mommy!”

Strangers are horrified at the sight of this red-faced, bawling preschooler, with the mean lady who looks like she may be trying to dunk her.

I give up, get into the pool, pull her in.

 

Tears stop.  Immediately.

 

“Thank you Mommy.  You get out now, ‘kay?”

 

Slink back to the towels to sulk/dry off.

 

And finally, finally, the kids are happy.

 

I look at my phone, for the time.

We have exactly two minutes to make it back to the car before the meter runs out.

Of course.

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49 responses to “I Just Wanna Bang on the Drum All Day. (And Sometimes I Do.)

  1. Love this. Sounds like a splendid day to me. 😉

  2. Don’t we just lurve kids?

  3. Looks like a great time for the kids. You must be some kind of saint, though, to take them.

  4. LOL I especially lost it when you talked about dunking the couple under the water until the bubbles stop. Here I thought I was the only one with anger issues.

  5. OMG, “And eating them.” Hah! That one just crept up and gobsmacked me.

  6. Bravo. I gagged a little on this post. Scab-picking and most especially, scab eating, gross me out to the max. *shudder*

  7. Soooo cool you taught your boy to use the word “wang.” P-word is boring. My boys prefer “Johnson.”

    • I’m pretty satisfied with “wang”. “Johnson” is good, but I know you’ve experienced the problems that are bound to occur. And one day, when your kid hits a grade with a teacher whose name is Mr. Johnson, know that somewhere, I am laughing hysterically.

  8. I can’t say that metal grate looks too inviting to me either. But that picture…what a great time!

  9. Eeew. Scab eating.

    Heeee. Wang. It does look like an awesome wading pool.

  10. I love you Ginny. Where else can I get scab eating and boogar eating all in one place?

  11. And someday one of your kids will write “Hey Mom, remember when you took us to the wading pool at the Legislature? Best day ever.”

  12. oh Ginny you always make me laugh

  13. mmmmm….scabs. I like mine with tapenade on crostini.

  14. Speaking of bathrooms . . .

    Where I work, we have two sets. On the North end of the building, where I usually migrate when Nature calls, the Men are on the right and the Women are on the left. At the South end of the building, things are reversed. So one day, they are cleaning my usually spot, so I wander South and head into the door on the right. I immediately wonder when management had the audacity to remove the urinals from the bathrooms. Fuckers, I say. And then realization dawns. I wander out, hoping no one saw that . . .

    Good to “see” you again, Ginny. I’ve been on a long hiatus and I’ve missed you . . .

  15. All you needed was a wet yellow Lab named Griffen dopily loping over to the making out couple. Then he’d shake his coat on them and gobs of Labby fur would fly and stick to them. Then he’d pounce on them and knock them down, wag and lick their faces.

  16. LOL Love the story, felt like I was there.
    The kids look like they are haivng a good time.

  17. “I drinking butt water?”

    Awesome. I’d trade you days easy.

  18. Love this post! So fun 😉

    • I gotta admit, when I think about going back to an office job, I think about days like this, and it gets really, really hard to consider it.

  19. “Resist the urge to join their faux-splash fight, push both their heads under water, and wait for the bubbles to stop.”

    STORY. OF. MY. LIFE.

  20. Hi! Great post. Really funny. I can relate.

    So I came here from Ask and Ye Shall Receive and I read a bunch of posts, all of which I enjoyed. Then I got to your Canada day post and realized you`re a fellow Canadian. Then I clicked on your FAQ and realized, much to my surprise, I`ve been here before!

    So, here`s my question: Why are you not in my google reader?

    I’m going to correct this over site immediately.

  21. Ginny–

    That is almost as funny as last summer’s story about the changing room antics.

    Poolman

  22. Your kids’ sense of humor is golden. Have I ever told you that I love how you refer to them as “the boy child” and “the girl child”. FUNNY!!! It seems to me that your son is the consummate big brother, explaining life and even offering visual examples to his ever curious little sister!!!

    -JayArr

  23. My limit of gross/annoying passerby is the two 40 minute daily commutes to and from work in a metal tube filled with nose-pickers, nail-clippers, scratchers, sneezers, farters, belchers, and assorted characters with not enough clothes to cover gross jiggly bits a tad too close to my face. Never seen anybody eat a scab though, that tops the gross list for sure. Hope you made it to the meter on time!

  24. Butt water…lol.

    Several years ago, I was out drinking with some friends. On our way home, two of us had to pee, too bad to wait, so we stopped at a McDonald’s. My friend and I ran into the bathroom and straight into the stalls. When my friend went out to wash her hands, she said “Heeeyyyy. I think this is a unisex bathroom. There are urinals!” Right at that moment, our designated driver stuck her head in the door and said “You *idiots* are in the men’s room.”

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