One Foot on a Banana Peel

Today was the day we decided to take our pool from something resembling this:

To something resembling this:

It was a good plan, but somehow it went wrong.  Terribly, terribly wrong.  This is something like our tenth year of opening up the pool so you’d think we’d have the routine down and be able to whip through it blindfolded with one hand tied behind our backs.  You’d think, but if you do…..then you don’t know us very well.

First you have to start with one husband, who is, for an unknown reason the crankiest person on the planet today.  Which, if you are married, you will know leads to a wife who is the second crankiest person on the planet because she has to put up with number one.  Then throw in the little cranks, who because they are catching the fallout from one and two, are running a very close third.

Once the mood (bad) is set, the husband declares the only way to deal with the pool is draining it.  Fine.  Then the green water and sludge on the bottom must be worked toward the hose pumping it out with push brooms.  Fine.  Or it would be if Crank Two and the Little Cranks could manage to push a broom correctly….or at least well enough to suit Crank One.  They can’t.  Big surprise.  Raise the cranky level.

Anyway, it progressed (or rather deteriorated) rapidly until a bit ago when Crank One threw stuff down and told Crank Two and the Little Cranks to do it themselves and stormed into the airconditioned house.  Crank Two and the Little Cranks looked at themselves, argued amongst themselves and then got down to business and finished the job.  Everything is clean.  The steps are in.  Water is at this moment filling the pool.

Moral of the story?  From now on when it is time to close or open the pool hire one of these: