I've Fallen and I Can't Get Out!

It's been a beautiful and already very warm spring here in the sunny South.  The temperatures are running in the high 70's and low 80's and it's been just about perfect.  Now if you live in the south, those previous statements bring to mind one thing... pool weather!  Yes, it's about that time, my dear readers and loyal subjects.  It's about time for those of us who have, live near, or can sneak into a pool to open them up.  Granted, it's mid March so it's early yet, but we're all thinking about it anyway!  The Queen is fortunate enough to have a pool. We put it in last spring and loved having it well into the fall.  It's a great outlet for the kids.  Let those little monkeys swim some of that energy off, I always say!  And it's even better for me.  I bask in the sun on my little pool float and drink the most marvelous blender drinks while looking just FABULOUS in my little bikini... at least that's what I always mean to do.  The reality is that I fight my kids for the mat, pray they don't play shark then come up under me and flip me off just as I do manage to get a sip of whatever I've spilled the least amount of into the pool all while hoping the neighbors don't see me because that diet really hasn't done what I want it to yet.  I'm working on fixing that, though!

I have a solution to part of the problem.  I announced it earlier in the day to MPH.  I want a pool boy.  I'm just putting this out there.  I don't think it's that unusual all on its own.  I mean, what woman really doesn't want a pool boy.   It doesn't even really matter if you have a pool!  Though I must add that it makes it a lot harder to justify when your spouse tries to figure out what this guy really does other than stand around looking hot and handing you drinks with cutesy names and little umbrellas in them.  Not that there's really much more that he NEEDS to be doing by my way of thinking.  So I decided to express this to MPH (My Poor Husband).  And because I'm me, I believe in being very specific when discussing what I want just to keep there from being any confusion.

The Queen:  I want a pool boy.
MPH:  You want a pool boy?
The Queen:  Yes, I want a pool boy... but I want a particular one.
MPH:  I'm almost afraid to ask.  What particular one?
The Queen:  I want a pool boy named Enrique who has fled Cuba because he didn't feel right about continuing his thriving modeling career under an evil dictatorship.
MPH:  (Well he didn't really say anything. He pretty much just stared at me as he sometimes does.  I'm not sure why.)
The Queen:  What?
MPH:  You want... never mind, you know what?  I'm willing to go all the way to Cuba to interview Enrique for you... and his sister, the porn star.
The Queen:  Wow!  I didn't know about her!  Does she have any useful talents?
MPH:  Well now you do, and I'm betting she does.  Let me know when I need to go.

I suspect that MPH was oozing a bit of sarcasm there, but I'm not really certain.  I still have hopes for Enrique, though.

Now on a side note, it turns out that I wasn't the only one thinking that it might be about time to open up the pool.  My 11 year old German Shepherd, Aubrey, seemed to have it in mind too.  I think that's why she decided to take the plunge into the pool today.  I could be wrong though.  All I know is that I was upstairs in my office working diligently (Did you hear that Cherie?! Diligently!!  Everyone wave to Cherie, my boss!) with the window open for some fresh air when I heard the splash.  I looked out the window, and there was Aubrey clinging to the side of the pool like she was just resting there for a bit between laps.  Well, I was pretty sure that that's NOT what she was doing despite her nonchalant appearance and so I went barreling down the stairs, yelling for her... like she was going to just hop right on out of there because she heard her name or something.  It was instinct, people.  Don't judge me!  Well I got outside and assessed the situation.  I was fully clothed and there was my dog in the pool which has a vinyl liner that I knew she could cut with her claws. There was no help for it.  She was too heavy to pull out.  I was going to have to get in to carry her out, or at least carry her to the steps.

I figured I was going to get my pants wet during this process.  I was resigned to it, but I did take my shoes off.  What I didn't count on was the fact that the pool still isn't clean enough for me to call it open and the steps leading into the pool were slippery!!!  I made it down the first and lost it on the second.  That second splash was me falling all the way into the pool still fully clothed.  I swear to you, Aubrey looked back at me accusingly.  It was almost like she was asking "Are you going to splash around back there or are you going to help me out."  I just sighed and trudged over, dripping wet, got her around the middle and carried her back to the stairs.  She climbed the rest of the way out, shook to get the water off, then looked back at me as if I was supposed to do it too.  She gave up on me, though, and off she went to lie in the sun.  I should have done the same.

The day definitely didn't go the way I had expected, and so, dear readers and loyal subjects, this is just one more reason why I need a pool boy... and more drinks.  This would have been a LOT better with Enrique to rescue the dog and then me!  You know, I'm going to go warm up the blender now and hope Enrique gets here soon.  You people should have one too.  I'm just sayin'.