Pool Rules for Teenagers
Every summer, teenage kids trade in their schoolbooks for swimsuits and think it would be really cool to work at the pool and be responsible for safe-guarding young kids' lives. In itself, that is horrifying. Mostly because they're completely distracted by the *other* teenagers at the pool who are inadvertently teaching profanity. Some rules for them:
1. You are all stupid.
Teenagers are stupid. Even the smart ones are stupid. And the less clothes they wear, the stupider they become. At the pool, they're practically naked. That means they're essentially non-verbal. And they're the ones in charge of keeping all the future lifeguards alive. Super.
2. I don't want to see your parts: To the girls.
Yes, it's super that since last September, you've acquired yourself some boobs. Well done. Someday you'll wish you could take them off and put them in a drawer. Now, how about a bikini top that doesn't make it empirically evident that you have a piercing in your nipple? The children aren't swarming around you because they think you're cool. They're wondering if you're a pirate.
3. To the guys. Please look down.
Inside the waistband of your swim trunks is a handy little string used to tighten them up. We understand the whole fashionable let-the-pants-hang-low-and-show-the-boxers, but dude, you're not wearing boxers. Let's leave the mooning to the guy fixing my kitchen sink.
4. Watch your mouth.
We work really hard not to have our children devolve into little F-bomb-dropping shorties once the pool opens. Why? Because while it might be funny for approximately one minute, it quickly becomes both tedious and horrifying. Tedious because we will spend the next six months patiently saying: "No no, darling. It's 'what the FUNK.'" Horrifying because we have mothers-in-law and teachers and neighbors.
Also, we know your mom.
1. You are all stupid.
Teenagers are stupid. Even the smart ones are stupid. And the less clothes they wear, the stupider they become. At the pool, they're practically naked. That means they're essentially non-verbal. And they're the ones in charge of keeping all the future lifeguards alive. Super.
2. I don't want to see your parts: To the girls.
Yes, it's super that since last September, you've acquired yourself some boobs. Well done. Someday you'll wish you could take them off and put them in a drawer. Now, how about a bikini top that doesn't make it empirically evident that you have a piercing in your nipple? The children aren't swarming around you because they think you're cool. They're wondering if you're a pirate.
3. To the guys. Please look down.
Inside the waistband of your swim trunks is a handy little string used to tighten them up. We understand the whole fashionable let-the-pants-hang-low-and-show-the-boxers, but dude, you're not wearing boxers. Let's leave the mooning to the guy fixing my kitchen sink.
4. Watch your mouth.
We work really hard not to have our children devolve into little F-bomb-dropping shorties once the pool opens. Why? Because while it might be funny for approximately one minute, it quickly becomes both tedious and horrifying. Tedious because we will spend the next six months patiently saying: "No no, darling. It's 'what the FUNK.'" Horrifying because we have mothers-in-law and teachers and neighbors.
Also, we know your mom.
Provided byKristin Wilson Keppler & Julianna W. Miner
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