By Jesse Welch of Sterilite Corporation
There once was a person who decided to purchase a home with his wife. After nearly a year of searching, they decided on one with many quaint selling points. One of them was a pool, though the sellers admitted it was not functional at that time.
"Hahaa!" he proclaimed, "I can fix this thing." So began a story spanning three summers. A story of toiling in the sun, replacing all manner of pool parts, from liner to plumbing to filter, paying one massive water bill, staring at test strips, analyzing the results, talking to oneself, realizing there is nobody there, and self-consciously looking around to see if anyone saw the crazy guy.
I am that guy, and it is my pool – a pool that has become a spot for enjoyable weekends with friends and family, frequent barbecues, and as of last summer, our annual luau party (no, you can't come, I don't know you).
At the inaugural luau party, my wife and I realized the plethora of challenges that a pool party presents. Admittedly, I'm new to pool ownership, so some of these issues have been smoothed out as I gain experience with it. And seriously, I'm very relieved. At one point I considered just filling the thing with dirt and calling it a day.
At that first party we realized – of the many things needed for pool party success – floats, noodles and pool toys were an essential and obligatory party supply.
Noodles, as most people know, are foam, and can provide plenty of ammunition for pool hijinks. Spraying water at people by blowing into one end, submerging and then letting go to watch the glory of a noodle in flight, and just straight up smacking someone with it. They're fun. You may be wondering how many you need? You need a bunch. They wear out. Stand on them bouncing on the floor of the pool and they flatten. Leave them in the sun too long and they fade to an unappealing that-thing-must-be-really-old color.
Last year, we only had five of them, and you should have seen the look on the kids’ faces when they realized big bro was going to go noodle samurai on them and they didn't have one to defend themselves with. It's enough to make you cry, but no worries, you're in a pool, your face looks wet anyway.
So this year, we decided to get a total of fifteen. While I am confident no child will be left without proper defense for the near-guaranteed sibling assault, owning this many noodles posed a new problem. How do we store these things?
My first thought involved building a contraption from wood and attaching it to the wall, but it seemed like overkill. In the end, I found the perfect solution. I purchased a round laundry hamper and drilled a couple holes in the bottom for water to drain out, and voila! Noodle storage. After any party, or gathering, I just collect the noodles and toss into the laundry hamper. With the holes on the bottom, they get a chance to drain out before I stick them in the garage for long-term storage.
Owning a pool adds a lot of potential fun to your life, but what you inevitably get with that is a tremendous amount of effort, patience and an endless stream of things to spend money on. Using the hamper as my pool noodle storage has helped tame a potential headache before it could rear its noodle covered head, and I couldn't be happier.