Everyone out of the water!

I remember the sorrow, the frustration, and the cold-blooded malice I used to feel, when, while serenely swimming away to my childhood delight, the whistle would blow, informing everyone to leave the pool - and it wasn't just for a ten minute adult swim. Rather, for an all day cleaning, because some calloused, irresponsible, and vindictive parent chose to not clothe their toddler in the correct garments: yes, the fateful poop-in-pool experiences, I remember them well.

I guess the proper idiom is 'what goes around, comes around'.

Yes, there we were loving the shallow and salt-free Plaza Resort pool water - we had even paid to enjoy its amenities, lavishness we not often allow ourselves...and then it happened. Little swollen raisins began floating around my fish, and I instantly realized my fatal error.

Now, I know what you are thinking...but what you don't know is how expensive those "Lil' Swimmers" are, or how hard they are to come by here in Bonaire! They are practically gold here, and the tourists always snatch them off the shelves before I can even attempt their purchase.

And usually it's a non-issue, as pool water is a luxury; the majority of our swimming occurs in the ocean, where, if poop happens (which it does), one can quickly rinse boy and suit out, without anyone being the wiser...

We were only planning on being in the pool for one hour.
It wasn't Bronson's scheduled poop time.
But here I was, the very same irresponsible parent I used to loathe.

So what did I do, you ask? Now, please, don't judge. Maybe by realizing the hatred I used to feel towards these situations will vindicate my subsequent action: I quietly pulled the poop-machine out, rinsed everything thoroughly, and...quietly got into the other pool.

I didn't tell anyone. No one else was playing in the pool at the time, and I figured (hoped, I guess is the better word) the filters and chlorine would fix the little mess that was there...I had, afterall, dispelled the situation as soon as it had begun, and even took the liberty of cleaning the aftermath a bit, in my hasty retreat.

And I especially didn't want to be the cause of everyone leaving the pool.

So in all honesty, I was helping, right?

I don't know...I'm still feeling the pangs of guilt; as we were leaving, a darling boy and his loving mother (not too far in age from my son and I) were stepping into those same waters...