Hairy Legs Approaching!

I’m on vacation people!
If you don’t see me around your blog, and if I don’t respond to a comment, it’s because I’m on vacation!
I promise to catch back up with you at the end of the week!! Have a good one!

To keep you entertained while I’m away, I present to you one of my best blogging friends, Kristin! If you don’t already know Kristin, you will be running over to her place, Taming Insanity, as soon as you read this! She is a first time mom to her beautiful son Alex, she is sarcastic and has a dry sense of humor (which I absolutely LOVE), and she works…full time…on top of being a mom! And people always ask me how I do it!? I got nothing on the working moms!

So, grab a cup of coffee, glass of lemonade, or an ice cold beer (depending on the time of the day), get ready to laugh, and sit back and enjoy!

Hello, friends of Natalie. I’m proud to be over here talking to you. Natalie is so lovely, so wonderful, and you are allowing me to entertain you while she’s gone. Thanks for that.

Natalie is my Nerd Mafia sistah. I’m tempted to say that we are brethren as that word seems somehow more powerful and reverent but alas, we lack the appropriate appendages to use that word. In any case, I love her. I’m honored to be here.

When I was younger, we lived in Arizona. Arizona is a hot place to be in July for an adult. For an adult with a colicky baby, as my mom was with me, it must have seemed almost oppressively hot. She sought refuge in the only place she could: the pool.

I loved the pool. I still do to this day. Something about the strong smell of chlorine still makes me feel like I’ve come home. Which is odd considering how disgusting most pool locker rooms are.

There was another child in our complex who was 4 or 5 years old. He consistently pooped in the pool. Whenever his caretakers saw he’d pooped, they scooped him up and scurried away without cleaning the mess. The neighbors came by, saw the mess and always assumed I was the defecator. They constantly gave my mother the evil eye. She is still mad about it to this day.

When I was older my parents dutifully enrolled my in swim lessons. Though I could swim well for my three years, I loved the opportunity to get into the water. Every year we went back and I loved it.

Until the year that I stood happily on the deck waiting for them to assign me an instructor. I was brimming with anticipation. Swimsuit clad, I scanned the deck looking for a potential pool-mate. Was it her? Or her? Or….oh God, no.

Please do not let it be the hairy-legged teen boy in the speedo. Please, please, do not even make me talk to him. Why are his legs so hairy and bruised? How does he not know that speedos are terrifying? Why is there not a pamphlet I can silently hand him to explain the horror that is barely covering his body? (I was only six or seven. I couldn’t even bring myself to think the word private parts.)

My stomach sank straight into my toes as he continued over to me, grinning wildly. He just seemed so pumped about being my teacher that I couldn’t bring myself to ask for someone else. I sucked it up and shook his hand.

In the end, he was a good teacher. I hope that in the future Alex has such good teachers and learns to enjoy the water as much as I have.

I do, however, hope to spare him the awkward reunion with said teacher.

When I was 20 years old, I ran into the former speedo-wearer. My ex-instructor was now in his thirties, married, heavy and drunk. He hugged me. He kissed me on the forehead. He invited me to go toilet paper houses with him and his wife.

I wiped away the spittle his kiss had left on my forehead and politely declined his TP invitation. After nearly 15 years, I’d decided to stay away from the man whose exuberance scared me just a little.

I mean, who knows if he still had that speedo somewhere? Seeing it resurface was a chance I was not willing to take.
 
And so it goes…

Comments

  1. Too funny. Glad that didn't scar you for life. Haha. Wish my little man could get a good teacher that would make an impact on his water fears.
  2. Lula Lola says:
    So funny! You should totally have gone TPing with hair legs and his wife, and if he'd pulled out the speedo, you'd have blog material to infinity!
    Great story!
  3. Seriously? He goes TPing...with his wife...and he's in his 30's?

    Dude...Sigh...
  4. Bethany @ Organic Enchilada says:
    That is creepy on so many levels.
  5. Thanks for having me Nat! It's exciting to be welcomed into your blog home.
  6. Haha! Hairy legs + speedo + youthful innocence = scarred for LIFE!
  7. blueviolet says:
    That reticence you felt the first time you met him was clearly a warning from your gut!
  8. Kristin @ Peace, Love and Muesli says:
    Last week during my swim practice there was a poop at the bottom of the pool in my lane. The lifeguards ignored me and left it there. We were pretty cross. When we were done the guards gave me the net and asked ME to dive down and get it. Umm NO!!
  9. The Urban Cowboy says:
    Something is definitely wrong with this picture! TP'ing in your thirties with your wife...get a rope!

    I too love the water, been swimming since I was a couple years old, and have been scuba diving for the last 20 years.
  10. WTH am I Doing? says:
    Wow, even I'm (slightly) more mature than to go TPing with my husband. That's just weird. Nice post! :)
  11. I just put my boys in swimming lessons, now I am all scared that they're going to have to deal with some overzealous speedo wearing freak. I guess you've gotten me back for scaring you with the "s" comment the other day.

    Oh, and...BWAHAHAHA!
  12. Hello! I'm Kate. says:
    hahahahaha! I have no idea why anyone would turn down such a lovely invitation???
  13. The Flying Chalupa says:
    Hey Natalie. And KLZ, great post as usual. I love pools too. Swimming makes me very happy. Just not with poop or guys with speedos in them. Eeeewww.
  14. The Empress says:
    What memories...the stuff that makes our life. WIsh I could see it visually the way you still do...