Not one to avoid getting back on the horse, having fallen off it last week with great flair (see this post), I took all four kids swimming again today. I met a friend at her home which is directly across the street from her lovely neighborhood pool.
After spending 42 minutes getting everyone swim-diapered, sunscreened, and into his/her respective personal flotation device so as to avoid another near-drowning incident, we finally made it across the street to the pool. We swam for thirty minutes, and then hopped out to eat some pizza. The kids finished up and wandered back over to the water, while another mom with five young children arrived and began getting her kids prepared to swim. I sniffed the air a few times, thinking I smelled something foul. Checked Jiushu. Not him. Assumed it was one of the other young children, not yet in the water. Suddenly it dawned on me...it was L. Sweet, plumpy, just-turned-two L, the star of last week's library drama and swimming scare. She had diarrhea in her swim diaper. Which basically means all of it went into the pool. Well, not all of it. There was certainly plenty of it still on her. Oh the horror. I apologized profusely to the mom who would now have to leave the pool with her five kids, and my friend called the neighborhood association to alert them before we too left the pool.
I'll leave the details of the ensuing cleanup to your imagination, but suffice it to say it was disgusting. And so I think I might be ready to give up on the whole taking four kids to the pool thing.
Shut. It. Down.