The Bucket

One of the things I really liked about living in Denver was going to the Jewish Community Center pool.  It was as close to being members of a country club as we’ll ever get. 

This summer, now that we’re back in Illinois, we got passes to the Skokie Community Pool.  Which has a decidedly more “Caddy Day” at the country club vibe.   Now, I don’t say this disparagingly.  I feel a lot of comfort in having the least number of tattoos of anyone in attendance.  And Diana loves being the hottest woman there.  By far.  By far.

The crowning achievement of the Skokie pool is The Bucket.  Perched high above the kiddie pool is a massive, massive red bucket.  A big pipe pours water into the bucket and when it fills to the top, it flips, dumping hundreds and hundred of gallons of water onto the toddlers below.

I have to hand it to the pool designers.  They were able to convince the good people of Skokie to allow their children to be crushed by a tidal wave every three to six minutes. 

That’s one of the awesome things about The Bucket.  The randomness of it all.  The Bucket has a mind of its own.  Like an angry god who smites his tiny subjects at his leisure.  The Bucket doesn’t care if your rich or poor or black or Hispanic or if you are The Wine Goddess.  The Bucket drenches all.

There’s even this group of Bucket Disciples who sit directly underneath it all day, waiting prostrate for their punishment.

Elijah loves it, of course.  He races around the kiddie pool structure with no care, mocking The Bucket.  And when The Bucket unleashes it’s wrath, Eli falls to the ground, laughing his head off.

Luca, hates it, of course.  He’ll go nowhere near The Bucket’s splash zone.  He walks around the pool constantly looking up at the Bucket.  Checking The Bucket.  Praying to The Bucket.  And when it dumps with it’s mighty roar, Luca screams bloody murder, to the delight of the sullen lifeguards.

I tried to get Luca to walk with me out to The Bucket’s splash zone, so he’ll see that it ain’t so bad.  But Luca can make himself very, very heavy when he wants to.

Luckily, I plan on being there every day this summer, so he’ll have plenty of time to get brave.