This may not come as a shock, but we’re horrible planners. Despite frequently starting sentences with, “I’ve got a great plan!”, George rarely has one. Hazy is an unrealistic planner (“No, we can’t go to Disney World this afternoon.”) You’d think that Matty, who produces television commercials for a living, could produce everyday family life, but you’d be wrong. And while like Hannibal from the A-Team, I love it when a plan comes together, somehow it rarely does when I’m in charge. (Remember when I failed to realize Canobie had closed for the summer? Or the time I left the pool passes at home after walking approximately a Proclaimers amount of miles?)
Take Monday. We decided to hang out with George’s old preschool bestie, Henry, and his dad, Andrew. The “plan” was to meet up at our pool at 9 am, which is when they have swim lessons every Monday and Wednesday. In unprecedented professional planning fashion, I even called the pool to see if it was okay for guests to take swim lessons. The girl on the phone gave me, “I’m not sure, but I don’t think it will be a problem,” which seemed like a solid gold yes to me.
We packed lunches, we packed the Mac wagon (still no eyes – poor planning) and then we arrived promptly, miraculously, at 8:50. We met up with Andrew and Henry, and after some adorable reuniting (“Henry!” “Georgie!”), we headed over to the pool entrance. There, we were greeted by an old man in a Mirabella t-shirt, who I’m guessing is the man in this review: “very nice pool except for the old man in the food area.” He asked us if we were here for the pool. No, Old Man in the Food Area, we’re here in our swimsuits with our giant Mac wagon full of towels for the bocce court. He then informed us that there were no swim lessons due to July 4th. So we had to go to Plan B. “B” standing for “But we don’t have a plan.”
First, we played at the playground and the sprinkler park, which are thankfully right outside of the pool. We also took a quick pause for a Hazy runway show to display her adorableness. Duly noted, Hazelbert.
Then, due to an earlier incident, Hazy and I went to shop for Emergency Replacement Sandals (it’s a thing), while Andrew bravely volunteered to watch Henry and George at the Greenway sprinklers.
After killing nearly two hours, which is surprisingly easy to do while shoe shopping (bless you, Andrew), we headed back to the pool.
Here’s what you need to know about George and Henry: they have a true connection. While they’ve both made friends in pre-kindergarten, neither has made a best friend to replace each other. They share a joie de vivre and a love of trains, and even when they haven’t seen each other in months, they pick up right where they left off (i.e. hitting each other in the butt).
They’re also quite competitive. At the pool, they tried to one up each other on jumping distance, swimming stamina, and even “push ups” (pelvic thrusts).
The winner? Andrew and me, because they exhausted themselves out.
Hazy’s not one to shy away from competition, so naturally she challenged Andrew to a handstand contest. I gave her the win based on style points and degree of difficulty (she’s short).
After we’d jumped all the jumps, swam all the laps, and did all the headstands, we headed out for our daily dose of ice cream. But first, I achieved this rite of passage: locking our beach chairs up at the poolside sprinkler park like the real members do.
On the walk, Henry and George would duck into every doorway in plain sight, and then jump back out as I walked by. “Surprise!” It was never a surprise.
And that was just Monday!