I Could Be Your Kiddie Pool Lifeguard
June 6th, 2007
Water is water, that’s what I always say.
Talk to forensic scientists or homicide detectives and they’ll tell you that a man can drown in a foot of water. Talk to lifeguards and they’ll tell you they’ve seen beach-dwellers drown by drinking a can of soda too fast. Talk to the brave members of the United States Coast Guard and they’ll tell you that water is the most evil element on the face of the Earth. That’s why, as summer approaches, people need to be very careful with those blow-up kiddie pools.
Thankfully, I could be your kiddie pool lifeguard.
Kiddie pools seem innocent enough. You can buy them for seven bucks at your local drug store and you can blow them up with a four dollar electrical pump. They’re colorful, they come printed in patterns of fish and animated sea-life, and their primary colored kiddie-poolscapes welcome all ages to “come and play.” They’re the equivalent of those huge, birthday party bouncey-castle abominations — except instead of protected by safety netting and being filled up with plastic balls…these things are filled up with death.
Death, I tell you.
Personally, if I was your kiddie pool lifeguard, I would never leave your children’s side to cook a dog or grill a patty. I would never turn my head to pop a beer’s top or to flirt while eating some ‘ritos. I would sit myself directly in front of said kiddie pool (not Indian style, because that takes too much time to spark up from), perched in such a way that I could spring to action when a child or adult got their head stuck at the bottom of the tub ‘o death (as I like to call it). Of course, I would never call it the “tub ‘o death” aloud, and near your children. As your kiddie pool lifeguard, I’d let them come close to death, realize how dangerous such a thing actually is, then save their life with one eye closed.
Fortunately, I only need one eye to save a life.
Unlike normal beach lifeguards who sit high atop a white-painted chair listening to the latest in alternative tunes, I would not sit high at all or listen to anything except the playful voices of your family. I would not distract myself with bathing-suit Betties or have to worry about incoming sharks or Cuban drug lords. I would have three square feet of space to keep my eye on, and that would make me a better kiddie pool lifeguard. I would also remind your children and family members reguarly that I was there for them, without making myself sound too egotistical:
“I’m just hangin’ out over here, in case…you know, you need anything…like you LIFE SAVED!” I might say.
I’d have a list of thirty other sayings that would both encourage you to play safe and scare the crap out of you all at the same time. I would instill a strict “no-floaties” rule and combine it with a strict “no drinks, no food, no stuffed animals” kiddie pool Bill of Rights. I would make sure that no one went in with painted faces (smeared paint can blind you and make you forget you’re under water) or attitudes (which can kill). As your kiddie pool lifeguard, I would dedicate myself to all things kiddie that happen near water (and rhyme). Such things include:
- Defecation
- Urination
- Demarcation
- Instigation
- Persperation
- Elation
- Animation
I would not have a whistle. I would not bring a floaty device. I would not wear a tank top and I would not paint white crap on my nose. I would not run in slo-mo and would never mention David Hasselhoff. I would not need a female partner and even though I wouldn’t need a female partner I still wouldn’t request one from the home office. I would never visit the home office or call the home office to tell them how things were going, because all that would do is take my attention away from the current kiddie pool goings-on, and that spells death, if you ask me.
If I was your kiddie pool lifeguard, I would be all about life.
The birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees and the smell of clean air and the wind in your hair and the dogs and the cats and the flies and the gnats and the wonder that is living in a world where being happy and loving each and every person around you does not pale in comparison to anything.
Except for one of those thirty dollar kiddie pools that come with their own floaty toys.
Put me next to a seven dollar kiddie pool that bursts under the pressure or next to a seventy-five dollar kiddie pool that’s more mobile home than kiddie pool and I’ll still do the same job with the same dedication. Blindfold me, stuff me full of cole slaw or slap me silly. I will never turn my head. I will never look away. I will dedicate myself to the cause at hand.
Protecting those in the kiddie pool.
Today, if you look around, the world is a very dangerous place. There’s Iran and their impending nuclear missle launches. There’s global warming and the rising of the sea waters. And there’s kiddie pools and the danger associated with them. I’m proud to be a solution to one of those three problems. And it’s nice to know I could totally do it.
If you just gave me a chance.
Please?
