It wasn’t as difficult a decade ago, but neither was getting up in the morning.
Each year while we battle getting the pool open we say once the liner blows out, it’s game over. That was three liners ago and we’re still opening a pool that’s only used when the grandkids come over. I’m hoping the dog will choose to swim in the pool, instead of the pond although he likes to pretend he’s hunting so I don’t see him wanting to float around on a raft free of the muck and weeds.
Typically I’m not given any tasks relating to the pool opening other than helping to get the cover off, which ended in a disaster last year when I accidentally dropped my end and all of the stagnate water went into the nearly clear pool water. That mishap took double the amount of chemicals to clear it up.
I was surprised when he asked me to hook up the contraption to suck some of the water out of the pool to prepare for opening. “Some water,” he emphasized several times while staring me in the eyes like he was repeating to a toddler not to touch the remote control.
I impressed myself after I had it hooked up, turned on and water was flowing out into the backyard. Mission accomplished without breaking anything! Five hours later when he asked me how it went I realized it had never been turned off, after “some water,” had been drained. When we got to the pool it had sucked all the water out with the exception of about three feet.
“This could make it easier to get the cover off,” I offered as I noticed steam could have been coming out of his ears. He was just staring at the nearly empty pool when I also added if he put his wader boots on we could also put the stairs in since there hasn’t been any heat to bring the ice cold water temperate up to being tolerable.
Moments later he came out with his wader boots on and we were successful getting the cover off without leaking any of the stagnate water into the pool. While he was still in the pool we decided to go ahead and put the stairs in. “Remember,” he said, “they’re really heavy so you’re going to have to lift your end up over the ledge.” Don’t ever give me a challenge, as whether I can do it or not, my go to phrase is, “don’t worry, I can do this.”
I dropped the stairs on him just as I picked it up over the ledge instead of slowly lowering them down into the pool. It wasn’t like it was in slow motion, it really was, as he staggered backwards, trying to regain his stance but to no avail. The last thing I saw was his glasses sliding off his nose as he was lying flat on his back in the three feet of water.
To make matters worse it was only 50 degrees outside and while trying to untangle himself from the steps he sprained two fingers, twisted his shoulder and elbow.
Sometimes saying sorry just isn’t enough, so I followed it up with a fit of laughter.
Sounds like my pool opening days are over.