Brown hour

It’s The Eyes loves the sun. She also loves coming up to the city. To tend to both of her loves, she purchased a season pass at a local water park and frequents there every couple of weekends in the summer. Today, she extended an invitation to Oreggano and I to join her. We were both with child – she with 4-oh-9 and me with Baby Q – so we packed up the diaper bags and met It’s The Eyes for some communal bathing mayhem.

 

Being responsible adults (not a phrase often used to describe me or Oreggano), we did not pack any alcoholic beverages in our diaper bags. We now realize this was a very irresponsible adult act on our part. Diaper bags are the perfect decoy for these items. In fact, we were able to bring everything into the water park – cheese, crackers, fruit, salami – contrary to policy. “We’ll let you through this time,” the young bathing bouncer with, clearly, an attraction to cougars told us.

 

We laid our towels next to It’s The Eyes’ stuff and wasted no time hitting the kiddie pool with the wee ones. All was good in the pool – the temperature was just right, water depth was low, and there was no cryptosporidium in the water. After some time in the kiddie pool, we ventured over to the wave pool. Baby Q loved this pool and we ended up spending most of our time there.

 

After several high intensity wave sessions, we exited the pool and that is when we saw it – a brown hour, ten thirty, high risk event, or, as the Center for Disease Control refers to it, a diarrheal fecal incident – floating near the stairs. Pretty soon, all of the adult attractions were shut down because the water from the wave pool circulates to the other slides. 7KV, appropriately named for having seven kids (and we all know where they come from – yes, the oriface North of that which is causing problems at the park right now), inquired with staff about the situation. “We’ve got a ten thirty,” they told her. “Look, we’re all adults, let’s just say it like it is. Somebody shit in the pool,” 7KV replied.

 

She was (brown) spot on. After being home sick yesterday, the last thing I wanted was a water related illness that took me right passed happy hour to brown hour. Thus, Oreggano and I picked up our wee ones and bolted to the door faster than someone with cryptosporidium would run to the bathroom or, in this case, the stairs of the wave pool.

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