Our swimming pool was plain. Our parents had bought it at Wal-Mart for about 10 bucks. It wasn't all that big but my two brothers and I fit perfectly. My youngest brother was two at the time so he wasn't yet able to participate in the fun. I think the pool was yellow.
So we had already turned off the hose and we were splashing around when one of my brothers came up with a brilliant idea: what about we have some bubbles?! We had heard of other kids having bubble baths but we had never known the joy of having one. I dunno where our parents were, but my brother was able to run inside and come back with the Ajax bottle. He poured some soap into the water, turned the hose on for a lil while to get the suds going and then...we had our makeshift bubble bath. We were giggling and having the time of our lives when we noticed a looming shadow overhead. Could the clouds have snuck up on us? Were we expecting rain? Nope. If only it had been that. We heard the stern voice of our father telling us to get out now. Well, that's kinda the censored version of what we were told. We quickly got out of the pool and got out of his way. The look on his face wiped the smiles off our faces. Our hearts stopped beating.
The three of us stood frozen, waiting to see what he was going to do. My father went and got a garden shovel and started to repeatedly stab our pool. We could see the water start seeping out from the bottom. Soap suds were starting to decorate our lawn. He turned the pool over, got rid of the rest of the water, and threw our mutilated pool out on the street. My brothers and I didn't move, we didn't breathe, we didn't cry, we just stood there. My father gave us another stern lecture about not listening to him and left to tend to whatever he was doing earlier. I guess my brothers and I went inside with our mother. I don't really remember what happened afterwards.
After that incident, we never had another plastic pool. We had to wait to be taken to the dirty waters of the Laredo Civic Center swimming pool. Forget about the bubble baths, those never again crossed our minds. Last year when I was buying my daughter her first plastic pool, that day in 1992 came up. I brought the memory up with my brothers and they automatically knew what I was referring to. We all started cracking about what my father's reaction had been. We all agreed that NOW we could laugh about it but back then, laughter was the last thing on our minds. We asked my dad whether he remembered what he had done. He gave a smirk and said that nothing of the kind had ever transpired. My brothers and I retold the story, all of us having the same memory, and there was nothing else my father could do but agree that it was true. My father had completely repressed the memory of that fateful day.
The story is one of our top family favs. To this day, we pick on our dad and even he admits that he didn't have to go to that extreme. At least, we were lucky he didn't reach for the cinto. Now, he happily sets up the pool for my daughter. I'm more than sure that if my daughter were ever to decide to make her own bubble bath in her plastic pool, he won't be reaching for the shovel. He'd more than likely reach for the hose and help her add more water. Perhaps there is some truth to the saying that we all get better with age....
Here's to those that have been desperate to beat the dog days of summer in Laredo. It ain't an easy feat to accomplish.
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