Public swimming pools full of pee and poo? No thanks

Maybe it's because it's not my children's bodily fluids that we're dealing with, but every time I see or think of a children's swimming pool, all I think of is number ones and twos. Litres of wees pooling together while kids splash around in it, occasionally dodging the 'code brown' floater.

Being a parent is gross.

But it’s not normally until I am around non-parents or people who have been out of the little kid game for a while that I reminded of just how many disgusting things I am involved with on a daily basis.

Summer holidays have also served as a decent reminder of just how truly complacent I have become towards all things unclean.

Half-eaten BBQ food spat out by a kid? No worries, I’ll eat that up.

Oh, you dropped it on the ground too? Not to worry, I’ll just get extra protein from the dirt. Five-second rule, and all that.

The tell-tale pre-spew burp gurgle? You bet I’ll put my hands out to catch that vomit with a reaction time of a half-decent cricket wicketkeeper.

Bit of poo on my hands when your wriggly child decides to GREER BERRY practice their wrestling moves mid nappy change? That’s fine, I’ll wash it off later.

My usually squiffy tummy doesn’t so much as flutter now when dealing with various bodily fluids of my kids.

But there’s still something that I have never really felt comfortable with, and sometimes I feel like I’m the only person who ever really thinks about it. Public swimming pools. Maybe it’s because it’s not my children’s bodily fluids that we’re dealing with, but every time I see or think of a children’s swimming pool, all I think of is number ones and twos.

Litres of wees pooling together while kids splash around in it, occasionally dodging the ‘code brown’ floater.

The thought of it makes me break out into a cold sweat.

Every time I mention it to others though, the response is always that there are so many chemicals in the pools, it ‘neutralises’ the nasties. That doesn’t make it OK for me. If anything, that grosses me out even further, knowing the full extent of how many chemicals must be required to deal with such high quantities of unwanted ones and twos.

So, it was with no great surprise that this week I read statistics around this exact topic under the brilliant headline of ‘Poo and vomit close Christchurch’s public pools hundreds of times’.

Some clever and slightly grossminded journalist – after my own heart - requested figures from the council that revealed just how many times council-run pools had to be closed due to poo and vomit scenarios.

I’ll save you the read and just say this: lots.

The numbers vary from complex to complex, but combined, proves my point that obviously no amount of chemicals can help once a code brown or chunder is spotted.

I get that it comes with the territory; accidents happen and all that, and I feel for the kids and parents involved as I’m sure no one wants to be known as That Kid Who Pooed In The Pool or, just as worse, The Parents Of The Kid Who Pooed In The Pool.

So I appreciate that the Christchurch City Council is trying to put steps in place to limit these scenarios, which include asking parents and children to use the toilets before entering the water, more signage, and getting swim instructors to let children out of the pool mid-lesson if nature calls.

But the cruel reality of it all is that nothing is going to work.

Anyone who has had any interactions with a toddler knows that asking them if they want to go to the toilet when you are conveniently standing beside one will almost never result in them using the facilities.

Toileting is so linked in with natural responses within the brain that it makes sense that even if they did need to go, the excitement of being at the pools, surrounded by other happy kids, slides, games and the like, will mean they may not feel the urge to go until they are immersed in the water themselves. We’ve all been there. Who hasn’t turned a shower on and suddenly thought ‘Eek, need to go – now!’?

So for now, I have magically avoided taking a dip with the kids while surrounded by other little feral, nappy-clad bums in public pools.

But I know the day will come when I have to put aside the obvious filth of the situation and get in there and get involved for the sake of my children’s happiness.

Just don’t expect me to be happy about it. Or put my head underwater.