Could It Get Any Worse?

Somehow I found myself as the volunteer parent in the swimming pool with my kids' classes this Monday. I thought it would be OK when I agreed to help. I thought Chas would have fun in the pool. I had forgotten that I am a hippopotamus. I had forgotten that my maternity swimming suit has a dumb skirt that looks ridiculous and floats up around my armpits in the pool. I forgot to shave my legs. I hadn't realized that I would need to help by herding children from one pool to the other, cheering them on in the change room, and other duties that require frequent pool exits. And I definitely didn't know that about a dozen other (skinny, make-up wearing, fully-clothed) mothers would hang around on the pool deck the entire time.

Could it get any worse?

Of course.

Today there was a fire drill at the pool. So the half-naked hippo with the dumb skirt had to stand with all the other mothers making chit-chat near the emergency exits while the life guards figured out whether we were about to be incinerated. I think I almost would have chosen flames.