I've got a new job title. I am now officially the head of the "fisher outer of any bugs in a pool" department.
It appears according to those I must obey (my children) that I am the only one capable of holding such a highly regarded position, and thereforeall fisher-outering must be done by myself.
One of the downsides of being a new pool owner is that it must be regularly cleaned and skimmed.
I thought having two sons of my own, that they would be the ones cleaning and skimming the debris. I naively presumed they would jump at the chance of a little domestic cleaning if it meant they could then go for a swim. Oh how wrong it was.
It seems anything that lands on top of the water, be it a leaf, a tiny little brown beetle, heaven forbid a cicada, or even a little bit of poplar fluff is major cause for concern.
A screaming siren from the children is activated and everyone must immediately evacuate the pool (picture the theme from Jaws here) and stand on the deck yelling directions as to where the offending debris is.
I, as the official fisher outer, then spring into action, wading into the pool, and playing a bit of scoop-and-throw with my hands to flick out the hugely dangerous and terrorising bug/leaf/blade of grass.
Only when the pool has been cleared, can the team resume swimming and swallowing water and kicking each other accidentally when attempting a forward roll.
At this point, I haul myself out of the water after that intense and frantic two minutes of aquatic exercise, to catch my breath before the next scream.
This new job is exhausting and stressful. If a little bee is still alive by the time I get to it, then it's also my job to save it. I must run inside and concoct some kind of sugary liquid potion to feed through an IV drip to the bee after performing mouth-to-mouth on it.
Sometimes the bee is saved. Sometimes I wrench off my hospital-grade face mask and prepare to tell the queen bee the sad news that we tried all we could.
And before you ask, yes I have tried yelling at my kids to get stuff out of the pool themselves as I glance up from pouring my wine. But that's like someone trying to get me to agree that Abba are the worst group ever. It's never going to happen! - Megan Banks