While I may never be allowed to have children, at least I’ll have no trouble getting a job with the CDC.

My Valentine’s Day didn’t involve a romantic dinner, wine, chocolates or even a good romp in the sheets. Nope. My day was spent with my two nieces at a public swimming pool.

The last time I went swimming in a public swimming pool I was much younger, and much skinner. I swore off public pools the day I discovered chocolate peanut-butter ice cream.

That’s a fucking lie. I didn’t discover that particular flavor of ice cream until 2002.

I swore off public pools when I learned about E. coli.

Love makes you do funny things. Like ignoring the threat of cryptosporidiosis, donning a swimming suit and jumping into pool full of young children in diapers. It’s entirely possible I swam in human feces.

Love is shit.

Literally.

Upon entering the swimming pool and scanning the water, I made the girls hand me their swimming goggles. I tightened the hell out of them, in hopes of preventing lurking bacteria from entering their eyes. The last thing I needed was blind kids, or their mom pissed off at me. I learned a very important lesson last year: pissed off moms give the worst Christmas presents.

I forgot about the possible disease outbreaks and spent the next two hours trying not to let the girls drown, which I apparently excel at. There are no dead kids in this story. Note that I said dead kids? While the kids weren’t dead, they were still put in harms way.

When we got back to the locker room after our swim I noticed my youngest niece had weird rings around her eyes.

I tried like crazy to wash them off with hot water and soap, but they weren’t going anywhere. Hours later they hadn’t gone away. I’m sort of worried that she has a black eye, but not worried enough to take any calls from her mom. Seriously, you guys, I can’t muck up this gift arrangement. I have a good thing going. I suspect if I ignore them until Christmas all will be forgotten.

Or she’ll be blind. Whatever.