Thursday, 10 April 2014

"Waty"

It was the armbands that gave me a clue.

Usually when the McBaby asks for "waty", it means he needs a drink of water. But on this occasion, he wanted to go swimming.

I had a look on the local leisure centre website to see if we could go swimming. After getting a blank page three times, I finally ascertained that there was something called "Aquazone" going on. I typed "aquazone" into the site's search box to see what that mean and it said "no results for your search."

So I put us into our swimming outfits and then put him in the car much to his annoyance. "Waty!" he shouted, as he marched down the street towards the leisure centre. When I eventually put him in the car (sadly, I had to take his armbands off to do this), and we arrived at the leisure centre, he couldn't contain his excitement and bounded up the reception desk.

"Sorry, it's swimming lessons," she said as a heartbroken McBaby peered through the glass at two people in the pool, cordoned off into their own compartment taking up less than a quarter of the pool. The majority of the pool was being unused, creating devastation as I explained to the McBaby that he couldn't go in.

I asked about the sister leisure centres in the two neighbouring towns. "Same story", she said. "Are there any other pools anywhere?" I asked. "Well, there's the private place down the road". Yes!

I called them from the car, via that directory enquiries number with the runners. They put me back through to the leisure centre we'd just come from. I tried again, finally getting through to the posh one who said it was adults only.

I tried the hotel where I used to work. No day passes. But would I be interested in joining?

Then I tried one in town that we'd considered joining some time ago as it's gleaming clean! Yes to day passes! And the toddler goes free! And I'd get a tour!

I headed there along the main road, with the McBaby now purple in the face shouting "WATY, WATY, WATY" for 20 minutes only to sense halfway there that someone's nappy needed changing. Let me say that again, someone's LAST swimming nappy. I stopped by the orange supermarket and as he was so upset, and as I'm so responsible, decided that I would run in and out. Except I joined the slowest checkout queue in the world. What seemed like an hour later, I ran back to the car and we went to the posh gym.

We pulled up, got tutted at by a posh lady on the way in (not sure if this is because I look foreign or because we didn't arrive in a 4x4 or if it was because I'd brought our swimming stuff in a Tesco carrier bag). And because of that, the McBaby REFUSED to go in. He lay down on the floor and shouted "NO!"

So we're back home, in our swimming suits. "Waty day."





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