We decided to take our kids to the World Water Park in West Edmonton Mall on the Saturday of the four day Easter weekend.
It was us and 127,911 other people. All lying, sitting and standing on the tan cement 'beach' under greenhouse glass.
The world's largest petri dish.
It grosses me out just thinking about it. All those snotty noses, bare feet and water-slide enemas. People is various stages of wellness, coughing, hacking and sharing the same 8 public toilets. All those babies in diapers and little (or big) people peeing in the pool. It is probably one of Capital Health's secret testing laboratorys; they go in there at night and swab things down, testing for all sorts of microbial treasures. No wonder they use enough bloody chlorine to burn the hairs out of the inside of your nose.
But we did it for the kids.
It's a racket. $107.70 to get into the pool. $7.00 (non-refundable) for a locker. $5.00 (non-refundable) for tubes. There is a concession that serves giant pretzels, popcorn, hotdogs, chips, pop and slurpees. And two stocked bars for the adults that insist on drinking to complete the island experience.
I had the worst headache all day, and I never get headaches. I even thought that I was going to throw up once. I've never done that before.
Three hours was enough. The kids swam their little hearts out. And it gave me time to people watch.
What a wonderful opportunity to examine the shapes, sizes and colours of people. Tall, slender, muscular, fat, thin, hairy. Big boobs. Little boobs. Droopy boobs. Stetch marks, cellulite, enormous moles. Bikinis, speedos and cover-ups.
I had been dreading wearing a swim suit. Women and swim-suit season. We hate it. Obsess about it. Tan, wax and pedicure ourselves in order to prepare for it. If you've planned a holiday, you've probably watched what you ate, or downright starved yourself in order to prepare for the vacation. Added extra workouts and doubled the lunges.
Then, the big day arrived. You hit the beach, a tad self-conscious, hesitant to remove the cover-up you're wearing because you are convinced you're the most hideous creature to roam the face of the planet.
Everyone is going to stare. Point. Laugh. Snicker. Judge me. I have cream of wheat porridge legs. I can't go swimming.
But open your eyes and take a good look around. Realize that noone looks like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. Especially under the blue light of a foggy day outside the greenhouse windows.
So, I find myself examining (hopefully not too obviously) everyone else's parts. Flabby arms, jiggly thighs, stretched out pooches and hairy backs. I didn't see one stand up and out pair of Pamela Anderson boobs in the whole place. In fact, there were far more tiny Kiera Knightly boobs than anything 'outstanding' to examine.
We women tend to put living on hold, because we aren't perfect yet! 'When I'm five pounds thinner, when I've got a tan, when I feel better about myself.... then I'll do it!' All the reasons we find that keep us from living fully and loving every moment.
All the observation didn't convince me to take off the long brown sweater that I wore into the pool area. That damn headache. Plus I can think of nothing I dislike more than swimming in an ice cold petri dish. Give me a lake any day.
I only got my feet wet.
And thought about who there might have Plantar's warts.