I came home yesterday and saw that our new neighbors have subscribed to the Walmart pool movement. You know the one. I've referred to it here before. The one where a blue bag of water sits on the lawn. The one where I think to myself, "You know, growing up with a pool, you had to have a deck and a fence and locks so that kids couldn't get into it and drown." At least on theirs, it has a cover to keep debris out.
Still, I detest the blue Walmart pool. I detest the Walmart pool as much as I detest those blow-up holiday decorations that people pin all over their yards. (One is one thing. To have acreage helps. Around here, we're not even sitting on a quarter of an acre and the houses are mostly ranches. The blow-ups look like the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man taking over New York City.)
Hubs and I were discussing this very bag of water the other day. We were walking and I'm glad to say that other than the people across the street and one person around the corner, we are Walmart pool free in our neck of the woods. Still, when you really look at it, it is an adult wading pool. I mean, as an adult, you look pretty silly sitting in a plastic shell. You look so much cooler sitting in a slightly higher (in this case, though there are ones that are deeper that the one that the neighbor has installed) blue saggy blop of thick plastic filled with city water. Theirs has a filter and pump and all that. They are serious about it. Oy. Hubs said that he saw them putting it up and thought of me. I came in and asked if he could hear God audibly laughing.
As a bonus, we have the neighbor next to us who decided to install a wall of wood in his wife's flower bed, right next to our driveway. Hubs says that's okay. It'll provide a lovely home to the voles who have taken up residence in one of my flower beds. Double oy.