Why didn't I buy an orange rash guard?!

Before we were nearly blown off the map by an evening thunderstorm, we spent most of the day at the pool. I wish I had some melanin so I didn’t have to worry so much about being out in the sun. Four hours of mid-day sun is the most I’m comfortable with. Even if we are covered in thick, clay-like 60 spf, with anti-aging 70 on my face.

We went to the pool at 10 a.m. because Meredith had her first swim lesson with Bryce the lifeguard, who does not hurt my eyes. Alex was excited to hear he could swim around during her lesson so long as he wasn’t a distraction. He got a new snorkel set for his birthday and I haven’t seen him above water since the middle of last week. He even manages to scream through his snorkel, which is a real treat for everyone at the pool.

The pool opened during the last half of Merdi’s lesson and two families from our neighborhood who we know and love came to swim. It’s amazing how much junk we all cart to the pool. At one point, I noticed there were seven swim noodles floating around the pool looking for a purpose.

Megan and Catey came for a quick dip too. In fact, Megan stayed with the kids while I made a McDonald’s run. (I ran out of time to pack the nutritionally-sound lunch I’d planned. It takes a long time to apply all that sunscreen.) I wound up taking another little neighbor girl with me. She wanted to come and I enjoyed her company. She got an ice cream cone out of the deal.

All this means I’m still woefully behind on laundry and my house will likely be condemned next week. It’s supposed to storm and be chilly tomorrow, so hopefully that will be the motivation I need to stay home and regain control!

Completely unrelated Alex comment I’ve been meaning to share: We were driving to the 500 Festival parade in downtown Indy. (That will be the only time I ever type that sentence. It was hot and crowded and dirty. Three things I like to avoid at all costs.) Anyway, we were next to a car with hydraulics and a stereo system that probably cost more than the car. It was a 70’s sled of some sort and was bright, metallic purple. Kind of like a bass boat or a bowling ball. Very glittery, with a mural painted on the trunk. To say the car was loud is an understatement. Some sort of Spanish rap music was blaring out of the car’s open windows. All four of them. It was vibrating our car. Alex looked out the window and says without a shred of emotion, “I’m surprised that guy’s not deaf.”