We went out to my dad's house in the Hamptons for the weekend. (My dad will be referred to as Poppy from this point forward to avoid confusion with Mike.) It was a full house— Poppy, my stepmother (aka Nonna), Mike, Mazzy, my sister, my brohter-in-law, their dog Roxy, and me.

You might remember Poppy's summer house from one of my first posts (still a favorite)— Grandpa's Baby Deathtrap in the Hamptons

You see, Poppy's house is probably the least baby proofed place on the planet, short of maybe a nuclear power plant or a knife throwing school.

Mazzy cannot be trusted to be alone for a second, without fear of a large marble statue tumbling onto her head off a rickety pedestal or slamming into the sharp edged asymmetrical coffee table (something that I, a grown adult, has done more than once).

Seriously, I urge you to check out the photo evidence for yourself.

Anyway, Poppy's taste in "the anti-baby abstract" ended up being the least of my problems.

The main problem was the unfenced backyard pool temptingly situated mere baby steps from the back sliding door. 

Even worse, was the fact that it was unseasonably cold this weekend and there was NO WAY IN HELL anybody was taking Mazzy in an unheated pool, no matter how much she begged and pleaded.

Going in pools being Mazzy's number one activity of choice.

Adding insult to injury, on Saturday, we went on the South Hampton Garden Tour (our annual family tradition) in which we visited numerous amazing houses, all of which had amazing pools, none of which Mazzy was allowed to swim in.


"We can go in THIS pool?"

"No, sweetie, I'm sorry. We can just look at this pool."

Next house.


"We can go in THIS pool?"

"Nope. This isn't our pool. Nobody can go in this pool."

Next house.


"THIS POOL we can go in?"

"No, babe. I'm sorry. We can just look at it."

The next house was a beach front property. Surely, nobody could deny her the ocean, right?


"We can go in HERE?"

"Ummm…. We're not wearing our bathing suits."


"Uhhhhh… (Sigh) Yeah. We can go home and get our bathing suits."

Which is how Mike ended up freezing his ass off in an unfenced unheated pool on Father's Day.

And I banged my shin on the coffee table while trying to fetch them both a towel.


Sometimes, the kid is really hard to say "no" to, alright?


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