Atheist-Friend Takes a Stand

I was invited by Atheist-Friend to join her family at their local pool this past Saturday.  It didn't take much convincing.  The temperature was going to be 102 and her pool allows you to drink and carry in Brown's Chicken.  Good and good.

Yet somewhere between Jack's piano lesson and Dan's piano lesson, I received a series of texts.  Apparently, Atheist-Friend's street was having their block party that day and Atheist-Friend's husband was lobbying hard for that event instead.  The texts went along the lines of:

He wants to stay for the block party.  We're arguing.  More later.

We're still fighting it out.

I may have gained an advantage.

Nothing decided yet.

He wins.  Bring the kids' bathing suits to the block party just in case the tides turn.

Although I appreciated the minute-by-minute updates, I was more impressed with Atheist-Friend's texting abilities.  It takes me an hour to figure out how to send a reply of "yes." But of course I don't have a text-friendly phone and need to press buttons in rapid succession in order to get letters to appear. I also don't know how to erase which leads to my texts being generally indecipherable and to speculation that I might have a drinking problem.

Anyway, by the time we arrived in the neighboring Chicago community of Mt. Greenwood, every child on the block was an alarming shade of crimson from the heat. I suppose my look of trepidation was apparent, as Atheist-Friend was quick to point out:

I wanted to go to the pool.

That refrain was heard throughout the day each time a kid needed to be iced down. Or when my husband pressed a cold water against his temple.  Or even when I got bit by a mosquito. In her mind, the preferred pool option would have prevented all of the world's problems including plague, pestilence, and the national debt ceiling crisis.

I knew Atheist-Friend was in fine form when she took one look at my husband who excitedly sported his brand-new OFF! clip-on bug repellent, and asked:

What is that?  You come with your own personal air freshener now?

Personally, if I was Atheist-Friend's husband, I would have saved myself the grief and just gone to the pool.

Regardless, I love a good block party and my husband particularly appreciated Atheist-Friend's husband's arranging of the cooler.  It resembled an overhead shot of the city and clearly embraced the Chicago grid system:

15 years of marriage to a Type A wife = perfectly organized beer

So for the first time that week, I enjoyed several hours of unadulterated peace as the kids raced up and down the block, bounced to their hearts' content, and beat the ever living sh*t out of some pinata.  A grand time was had by all.  Here is how I will remember Joey for the better part of 6 hours:

Just don't tell Atheist-Friend.  I think she would have preferred us all miserable and full of malaria so she could heap one more, "I wanted to go to the pool" on her husband.