Gene Pool

Just got back from Portland with Jen and the kids. We played in the pool every morning we were gone. The first two mornings there was very little in the way of other people. This morning it was busier and stupider.

First there were the seal twins. They liked to belly crawl on the tile from the pool to the hot tub and back again where they went head first into 3' of water. Just waiting for Darwin to come a knockin'. Apparently Max tried to make friends with them talking about the temperature difference between the hot tub and the pool and got back the clever retort, "I don't care what you think." Lovely.

Then came baby couple. Did I name them that because they looked baby-ish? No. Because they had lots of babies? No (they did, but no.) It was because they left their baby with their stuff. I shit you not. Towels? Check. Shoes? check. Baby? check right here by the table.

They get better. It was a lovely couple. The dad who quickly became known as, "chest hair bra man." Seriously if I had two patches of jet black chest hair over my man nipples and really not much else to speak of. I'd be the "doesn't have much chest hair to speak of maybe but does some razor burn guy." Dude get with the twin trac and take care of it. No your tattoo doesn't distract from it in fact it's the other way. The man hair bra distracts from that turtle on your side. Seriously.

OK this fucker is an adult. Just left his baby by the towel rack. I'm reading a magazine that I'm almost done with. I'm sitting by the shallow end. I'm watching the baby now. Why? Could you not? I mean seriously the baby was awake and in it's little seat and they were swimming.

Butt muncher jumps in with a big splash and nails me and my magazine. Lucky for him I wasn't reading one of my new Powell's finds or I'd have grabbed him by that man bra and given him a shake. OK no I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have touched him for anything.