The Flying Floatie

Nothing says summer like, well, swimming at the pool.  We are fortunate enough to be members at the local country club.  We love to swim there.  The life guards are friendly and take an interest in the kids, the pool is relatively uncrowded and bingo, we are allowed to have floaties. Noodles, inner tubes, mats, whales and sharks, all are permitted. 
We went today, meeting up with some friends, to cool ourselves from the 100 plus weather we have been having.  I could go on at length about our wind, the way I hate it, the way it lays the earth bare until there is no top soil, the way it is preventing any form of rain from falling, but I won't.
Getting ready for swimming takes an Act of Congress to get us out the door.  First is the snacks that I pack.  We will be there between two to three hours, so that means hearty provisions.  What would happen if food weren't readily available to my portable stomachs children?  Sadly, the last of the summer sausage (bought three days ago), the rest of the strawberries, the granola bars, the water and juice.  I think we packed heavier than the Donner party.  Good thing, you know what happened to them!
Then there is the inevitable fight over who gets to be first for getting their sunscreen.  I don't know why this is such a big deal.  I have learned not to wait until we get to the pool, heavens, that means no jumping in for at least an extra five minutes!  Can't have that!!
I smear sunscreen in the correct places, insist on the proper rash guards (no getting around the fact of how disturbingly white we all are) and yell, find your towels.
I gather either my kindle or my knit bag to amuse myself after my obligatory dip.  Gather the million and four goggles, fins, masks and dive rings that must be brought because if I don't bring them, they will be missed and cried over not ten minutes after our arrival.
This time it was seriously hot.  The kids dumped their towels and headed straight for water.  Andrea, Liberty and I settled and talked for a bit, then the heat became too much.  We jumped in and cooled off, doing some aqua aerobics to keep warm before climbing out to dry out.
The wind kicked up as I was dispersing rations to my hungry minions.  It swirled around us and scooped up our black inner tube, lifted it out of the water, and over the fence. 
James, fast on his feet, took off around the fence and after the rapidly moving tube.
The ironic fact was the tub bounded and spun on edge as if the wind wielded an invisible stick to send the hoop running.  Past one tee, James ran after the fleeing tube.
It was gaining speed, but James was persistent and kept running.  A golfer at the closest green spotted his trouble and turned his cart around.
Boy and cart and tube were over a small rise (we have no hills here) and out of site.  We waited, on lookers at the fence.
Then, behold, the cart was zipping back with a tube on one side, and James in shotgun.  It zoomed back to our immense cheers, James grinning like a hero.

So, be wary the wind, it will steal your floaties, and be thankful for the golfer with a sense of humor and a good heart!

And how was your day?