code brown

Today has been a difficult one, filled with death, illness, and housework that remains undone. But rather than deal with any of that right now, I'd like to tell a silly story from a couple of weeks ago.

My partner takes our daughter, Olive, to group swimming lessons at the local pool each week. It's great daddy-daughter bonding time and gives me an hour or so of rare me-time. This particular Sunday, however, they came home rather early and noticeably red-faced.

Apparently, the lesson had just started when the instructor pointed Olive, leaped out of the pool and started yelling:

"CODE BROWN. CODE BROWN. EVACUATE. WE HAVE A CODE BROWN. PLEASE EVACUATE THE SWIMMING POOL IMMEDIATELY."

Olive's swim nappy had leaked. Once everyone realised what had happened, they were quick to react and all scrambled for the edge of the pool. My partner rushed off in embarrassment to change the offending nappy but slunk back later to apologise. The pool was still empty and there was no one to be seen.

The next day, I bought Olive some ugly ankle-to-neck one-piece bathers. And we now have a great story to tell at her 21st birthday party.