Hey there, Dad at the pool with his kid. I couldn’t help but notice you. Maybe because you strutted in here so carefree… the only one without a cooler big enough to feed the Chinese army. I mean, whatever, but don’t come crying to me when your daughter doesn’t have a minimum of six choices of Capri Sun and a variety of healthy yet palatable snacks.

I’m only trying to – WOAH BIG FELLA! Just going to go ahead and take that t-shirt off without first looking around to see who’s watching?  Well all right then. And wow – not even pretending to suck in that gut. It’s almost like your self confidence isn’t debilitating when you reveal your half naked realistic parent body to a crowd of people. Well good for you – I haven’t exhaled fully since 11am but I find the CO2 build up in my brain to be quite refreshing.

Ah, and now you’re applying sun block to your daughter. How very 2014 of you. Maybe you have been living under a rock, but you might as well sign a death warrant the minute that murder lotion her epidermis. But no, just go ahead and slather it on like you don’t care about being the one responsible for her slow but sure demise.

Oh no. Here we go. Oh dear. Anything but this. Excuse me as I bury my nose in my parenting magazine while you throw the ‘ole ball around. I mean it’s fine, as long as you’re okay with a little thing called HELICOPTER PARENTING. Want to accompany her on her first job interview too? Everyone knows in all pool/playground/park settings the parent is to quietly observe on the sidelines for the child to achieve maximum social skill potential. But no looking away, and GOD FORBID MAN DON’T CHECK YOUR CELL PHONE unless you want to become Facebook public enemy #1.

I guess now it’s break time over there in I Don’t Care Land. You’re just going to crack open that beer in front of God and everyone? Newsflash buddy – it’s pretty much common knowledge to stealthily stow all alcoholic beverages in an opaque work out thermos to maintain perfect parent status and forego judgement from other parents smuggling their alcohol in opaque work out thermoses. Jeez.

I must say, though, I’ve noticed your daughter seems to be enjoying herself and hasn’t once been up in your biz asking for snacks. She even walked to the water fountain to get herself a drink of water when she was thirsty. It’s such a rarity around here I had to rub my eyes to make sure I what I was seeing wasn’t a hallucination due to the lack of oxygen to my brain.

And maybe the sun block wasn’t such a bad idea after all. My kids are struggling over there in the deep end – their turtle necks and snow pants really create quite a drag.

But man… just parading your swimsuited self around the pool like you don’t give a hoot what people think, well that’s ju…

Sorry. I passed out for a sec. Wow – it actually felt good to take a complete breath.

I understand I might sound “persnickety”, or “like a real bitch”, but please know I’m coming from a place of love. All of us here have invested a significant amount of time on social media gathering gems of parenting wisdom, as well have been incessantly bombarded with images of bodily perfection everywhere we turn. We’re just doing our best to fit in. The last thing any of us wants is some crazy ass mom blogger calling us out.

So listen. Even though your kid is the most well behaved one here and you both seem to be genuinely having fun, do us all a favor and please spend some time on social media to learn how to be a real parent. After you help me carry this cooler to the van, that is. I think I dislocated my shoulder on the way in.