Good thing I left accidental wiggle room when I vowed – or maybe I ranted – recently that not another toy would come into the house until the guys cleaned up the pile of junk that made most of the house unnavigable.

I hadn’t said anything about toys outside the house, though, which allowed me to happily trot off to Big Lot’s today with a clear conscience.

Besides, thanks to the guidance of a drill sergeant cousin, the guys had cleared the inside toys today, even volunteering to throw away some. I’d like to think it was because they’d seen the error of their slovenly ways, but I know the real reason was my rant – I can’t even pretend this one was a vow – that the pool wouldn’t be cleaned until they cleaned.

And then I gave up when I realized the pool had become a victim of last season’s procrastination and was covered with too many snails, ants and stuff so disgusting I don’t even want to think about where it came from to be redeemable.

I sent it to the kiddy pool cemetery at the side of our house – it’s the third to land there – told the guys to put on their shoes and grabbed my keys. “We’re going to get a pool.”

For once, Big Lot’s failed me. The store stocked a gorgeous 15-foot model for a mere $229, except there’s scant shade in our backyard and putting a 15-footer on the patio would have taken up the bulk of it.

We settled for an eight-footer at the pool supply store next door. It cost $15 more than last year’s dead 10-footer, but I wrote the additional money off to the cost of not wanting to fight a bigger, busier shopping center across town.

Once we had the pool up, though, we realized all of last year’s pool toys also were covered in snails, ants and stuff so disgusting I don’t even want to think about where it came from. OK, guys, put on your shoes. We’re going back to Big Lot’s.

We left that time with a pool “bally ball” set way too big for our eight-footer, but we made it sort of work. And a pool tennis set – well, since we already had the net, why not? And a bag of buckets, shovels and molds that Boots grabbed.

Oh, and the giant bubble sword I’ve coveted since seeing it in action at a birthday party in February. “I have to have one of these!” I exclaimed. One woman had the nerve to laugh at me. Clearly, she doesn’t realize the value of a sword that a skilled user can coax into producing bubbles as long as the kids are tall. What’s wrong with people these days?

Back home, toys inflated – thank heaven for the foot pump – and buckets unpacked. It was the last I heard from the guys for two hours. Not a bicker, not a “mommy do,” not a yelp. No TV, no computer games. They even acted like they like each other.

I can get used to this. Once I have a chance to buy the pee-detecting dye for the pool, we’re set for months.

Welcome back, summer.

Copyright 2009 Debra Legg.

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