A Swim Meet, A Deranged Lunatic, And A Dumpster or How I Spent My Saturday

Saturday my oldest daughter had a swim meet.

An all day swim meet.

As in we left the house at seven in the morning and returned home, bedraggled and smelling faintly of chlorine, at six in the evening.

That, my friends, is a long time to sit on some metal bleachers.

To break up the day, my youngest and I decided to walk around outside. Sure it was ninety-five degrees and incredibly humid, but those metal bleachers were doing unkind things to my behind and I had to have some relief.

We started off strolling along the sidewalk in front of the high school where the swim meet was held. This sidewalk ended abruptly and somehow I found myself answering the dare of my ten year old by actually hurdling some bushes.

Side note: I totally cleared the bushes. Look out London, I'll be there to claim Olympic gold in a couple of weeks.

The high school backs up to a small woods and a creek. My youngest and I decided continue our stroll on the paved path through the woods. It was cooler in the woods and more peaceful. The only noise around us was the gentle burbling of the creek.

Until a loud noise startled us. My youngest (who was in front of me) whipped her head around to look at me with total panic showing on her face.

Youngest looking wide eyed and crazy: MOM! Did you hear that? It's a chainsaw! I know my tools and that was a chainsaw! Do you know what this means? A deranged lunatic saw us and now he's revving up his chainsaw! He's coming to saw us into little bits!
Me: Dude. Chill. That wasn't a chainsaw. That was a motorcycle in the school's parking lot.
Youngest: Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not taking any chances.

Before I knew it, she started running on the path back to the school. And let me tell you something: Homegirl can sprint. I had a hard time catching up with her, but I finally caught her at a dumpster behind the school.

Me (placing my hands on my knees because I was very winded): Thanks for waiting up for me.
Youngest: Oh I wasn't waiting here for you. Mom, it's a dumpster. Who willingly stands next to a dumpster? I need you to give me a boost into this thing.
Me: What?! Why? Why do you need to get in the dumpster?
Youngest: I just want to see if this is where the deranged lunatic with a chainsaw puts the pieces of his victims.
Me: You think he puts the bits and pieces of the bodies in this dumpster?
Youngest: Yep.
Me: You might be on to something here, but I'm not boosting you up in there. Just stand here and take a big whiff. If there's body parts in that dumpster, you'll smell them.

Picture us standing next to a full dumpster that has been baking in the ninety-five degree air and deeply inhaling.

Translated: Not my brightest idea. 

On the upside, we didn't smell rotting flesh and I got this boss looking photo of the bridge in the woods we sprinted over.

I think any day in which you don't get chainsawed to pieces and snap a boss looking photo is a good day.

Actually, any day in which you don't get chainsawed and snap a cool picture are days that should have you jumping up and down like a contestant who just won a Chrysler LeBaron on The Price Is Right.

Even if you walk away slightly smelling like a dumpster. Pin It Now!