Because I Am a Lifeguard

You all know I'm a lifeguard. I'm certified in lifeguarding, CPR, Oxygen, AED, First Aid, and not to be incomplete, BBP.

(If you're don't know, that's Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, uh, Oxygen, Automated External Defibrillator, uh, First Aid, and Blood Borne Pathogens.)

I also work out.

Basically what it boils down to is that I've taken a bunch of classes and spent a lot of time preparing so that I'm mentally and physically prepared to sit in a white chair and watch you frolic.

Every now and then I might get to jump in and save one of you, but really, I'm supposed to be more preventive so I can watch you safely from afar.

Oh, and I get to use a lot of sunscreen.

I know you think I'm a very caring person to do all of this for you. I know you think I do it out of the deepest goodness of my heart. I know you think that I've got my eyes peeled every second of every shift. I know you think I don't miss a thing.

What you don't realize is that while all of that may be true (that's my story and I'm stickin' to it), you really hit on the most important part: I don't miss a thing.

I see you when you throw your kid into the air. I see when your kid swims through the rail. I see that bright flash of pure white skin that tells me your kid is not wearing a swim band. I see your kid diving into the shallow end. I see your swimsuit.

Yeah. Can I just say something about swimsuits?

I just Googled it, and "suit" is referred to in more than one place as "a set of garments." Now pair that with the word "swim" and I guess you'd have "a set of garments made for swimming." I just Googled "swimsuit" too, and yes indeed, it is referred to as a "garment."

I also just Googled "garment," and it, to put it shortly, is something that is supposed to "cover the body."

Your swimgarment isn't doing that.

Actually that's the smallest swimgarment I've ever seen. How does it stay on? Where did you get it? I merely ask because my six-year-old sister needs a new swimsuit and that one looks about her size. You are not her size. You wouldn't be interested in giving it up, would you? No, it's ok. I just thought I'd ask because you seem to be coming out of it.

No, it's cool. Just thought I'd ask.

Dads? I feel for you. I know your wife is in the gym working out or something and you were sweet and said you'd take the kids up to the pool. She probably offered to get them into their suits, but you said no, it's cold out, I'll do it when we get to the locker room.

Sir, let me show you how this strange pink contraption works. I know you've never worn one, but it's a bit like underwear. The skinny part goes in the front. The not skinny part goes in the back.

I just thought I'd tell you because the skinny part of your daughter's swimsuit is in the back. Again. For the third time this week. And she looks uncomfortable. Again.

No, it's cool. Just thought I'd let you know.

Oh, and lap swimmers? You might want to have your wives check the backs of your jammers before you come to the pool. If she can see through them, it's time to get a new pair.

No, it's cool. Just... don't do anymore flip turns today.

Thanks.