Floaties

A few years ago I had the dubious honor of babysitting for 3 of my
grandchildren over the summer break. I would say the names have been changed to
protect the innocent, but since the little beasties are anything but innocent, I
won’t bother: they were Zac, age 8, Michael, age 6 & Aalyiha who was 4. These
are their stories:
It was August & we were roasting! I tried to keep the kids inside, under
the fan, but to no avail. Then one day cousin Andrew called & invited all the little
cousins up to swim in his big old cool, inviting pool! He us to be there at 11AM, & we gladly accepted!
Of course, by 7:15AM, the kids were in their bathing suits, standing
outside of the van, yelling for Nana to get the lead out. Trying to get the
concept of ‘waiting 4 hours’ over to kids who can’t tell time is a losing
battle. So, I managed to stall until about 9:30, then we piled in the van & were
off.
We had to make a couple of stops along the way, so we didn’t actually
arrive there until about 10:30 - & wouldn’t ya’ know it, they had run to the store.
So, we parked in the shade & settled down to wait. One of the stops
we had made was at the local Dollar Store, where we had purchase about $8 worth
of flippers, goggles & floaties.... which needed to be inflated.
“Nana!” Aalyiha’s little voice floated up from the recesses of the van.
“Blow up my floatie!” A plastic package gently bounced off the dash board. Big
brother Zac, who was sitting up front reading a comic book, ripped it open &
handed it to me.
I want it on record that I hate any inflatable device, but the most insidious
are cheap-o floaties! You not only have to be able to purse your lips tighter than the seal on a submarine hatch, but then you have to bite down on the stem in order for the air flow valve to open while you pump precious oxygen into the plastic void. But look at that sweet little face! So, I puckered up & began to blow.
After about 3 or 4 deep breathes I began to see the little sparkly
thingy-s & had to stop. Aalyiha said “Why are you stopping? Blow some more!”. “I
can’t” I gasped.
“It’s not full enough, Nana – blow harder!” By now sweat was rolling off
my brow as I lay back in the seat, gasping & coughing. “If I blow any harder,
I’ll have an aneurysm!” Little Michael leaned forward from the back – “What’s an
any-ism?”
“It’s where your head explodes.” Zac stated matter of factly, without even
looking up from his comic. Immediately 2 little horrified faces popped up from
the back seat – “Is that true?!” they whispered.
“No, your head doesn’t explode, but a vein in your head bursts & your
brain is affected”.
“What happens then?” I tried to think of a way to explain – “You might not
die, but sometimes it could make you act … different.”
“Like how?”
“Well, it might make you dumber.” I drew in another ragged breath & slowly
raised the loathsome floatie to my trembling lips. I managed to pump 2 more
puffs of air into the plastic pariah before I collapsed again.
“Nana – what’s 8 plus 8?” Aalyiha’s little face pressed close to mine.
“16 – Why do you ask?”
“Just checking to see if you’re dumb”
The half inflated floatie slid from my feeble grasp, & a few peaceful
moments of silence fell on the van …
“Hey, Nana.” Zac nonchalantly flipped the page…..
…… “Why do you light one cigarette off another?”