Man Slips In Pool. Chaos Ensues.

I'm back. Have you missed me? Lately I've felt that I could express any random thought through Facebook updates, and I haven't needed to blog. That changed today.

My wonderful friend Morgan called and asked if I wanted to go to her country club pool. Um...natch. We were having a grand old time catching rays and watching four men play with a baby in the pool while they drank beer. Actually, I was on edge a little because my world is fraught with peril, and I saw hazards everywhere. Little kids walked on the edge of the pool. Older kids bounced too hard on the diving boards, using them as trampolines. At one point seven kids were in the deep end. This never would have been allowed at the Glasgow City Pool, that's all I know.

Suddenly, the baby-daddy tried to climb out of the pool. His foot apparently slipped on the ladder and he hit his face (hard) on the concrete. He slumped there for a moment. Morgan thought he had a heart attack. I thought he was stuck...he was pretty heavy. When he looked up, blood was all over his face. Realizing we could never pull him out, we ran for the lifeguard and his wife.

Finding the lifeguard was easy. When we found his wife, her response to "Your husband hit his head. He's bleeding" was "Oh, my effing God!" (In an irritated tone. And she didn't say effing.)

People swarmed all around. He was pulled from the ladder. The lifeguard cleaned up the blood and wiped his face. Morgan and I felt pretty special because we were Witnesses. (I capitalize for you, Jodie.) We wanted someone to ask us what happened. Soon, the angry wife stopped scolding her husband and came to ask us for our account. We told her. She said, "He couldn't get out because he's fat!" And that, my friends, is what I call the pot calling the kettle black, if you know what I mean.