Water Games

I try very hard not to harbor any hatred in my heart. Really. I know life is short--sometimes painfully, unfairly so. Therefore, I try to let go and let god, the whole nine...but it would be disingenuous to simply write a little "I [love] it, I [love] it not" note about today's topic.

Because really, I hate the person who thought Marco Polo would be a fun pool game, and would love to have a few words, and maybe a few minutes alone, with him or her.

Marco!!

Polo!!

Really?

Marco!!

Polo!!

In a crowded pool?

Where not everyone is playing? But still needs to endure the shrill, repetitive shouts of Marco, Polo while worrying about colliding with less-than-proficient underwater swimmers who are unable to see (even plus-sized) standing pool waders because--unlike the person who is IT and SHOULD keep their eyes closed but invariably cheats--they swim underwater with their eyes closed.

Nothing says relaxing afternoon at the pool like the repetitive screams of Marco, Polo by ill-behaved, strangers' children coupled with a ten year old swimming right into your spandex clad crotch.

Good times.

Not.

Down with Marco Polo. And whoever thought of that game: I hate you. With every cell in my body that is trying to relax.