Life in a Crocodile

July 12th, 2011

These days, I spend most afternoons lounging in a three-foot-wide inflatable crocodile kiddie pool.

Yup.  This is my life.  It’s not bad, really.  The pool has just enough resistance in its inflatable sides for me to rest my head on the crocodile while I stick my legs out over his sides.  We’ve got a nice yard umbrella to provide some shade and — assuming I remember to fill the croc early enough in the day — the sun warms the water nicely.

Miss Mouse vascillates between loving the crocodile pool and being totally unimpressed.  Some days she’s content to dip out endless watering cans of pool water to sprinkle on things: her swing set, the weeds, the dog, etc.  Some days, she wants to see if her brother can breathe underwater (note: he cannot) and thus I serve as a human barricade between them.

For his part, Buggie loves everything about the pool.  He likes splashing, and kicking, and sticking his face in the water, and trying to climb out over the sides.  He’s intrepid, that one.

One response to “Life in a Crocodile”

  1. Isa says:

    I love him! Does he have a name? I could never get one, you know. All those deep-seated Floridian fears would just resurface like whoa and it would probably be attacked with a machete out of pure, animalistic fear…

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