I knew the moment I approached the water.
The air was heavy with chlorine and regret.
The surface shimmered like a lie told too many times.
And the skimmer…
It watched me.
Silent. Judging. Like a disappointed parent who’s seen it all before.
I Thought I Knew What I Was Doing
Pool shocking? I’d done it a dozen times.
But this time, I didn’t wait. I didn’t test.
I dumped the chlorine like I was washing away my sins.
Big scoop. Bigger scoop. Then one more for good measure.
The water hissed. A bubble of rebellion. The skimmer blinked once.
I had done it wrong. Again.
pH Isn’t Just A Number, It’s A Mood
7.8. 8.2. 8.5.
Each test strip screamed louder than my conscience.
The water turned cloudy, like my understanding of chemistry.
I googled. I panicked. I promised I’d be better.
The skimmer still said nothing.
But I could feel its doubt.
I Neglected The Filter, And The Filter Knew
I walked past it every day.
The pressure gauge was high, but not yelling. Just… disappointed.
Like it had accepted its fate.
I told myself I’d backwash it on Sunday. Then Monday. Then Maybe Later.
Algae bloomed.
The pool floor turned into a swamp of my own avoidance.
I whispered apologies to the filter.
Too little. Too late.
Redemption, Or Something Like It
It came in small steps.
I read the manual. Twice. I cleaned the filter like I was peeling guilt from my skin.
I shocked with care. Measured. Balanced. Brave.
I adjusted pH like I was mending a fragile relationship.
The water started to look back at me without resentment.
Even the skimmer… blinked.
Lessons I Learned From A Judgmental Skimmer
- Shocking without testing is like texting your ex at midnight.
- pH swings are mood swings. Treat them with caution.
- Filters aren’t forever. They need love, not just hope.
- Your pool knows. It always knows.
- Sometimes, silence isn’t peace. It’s passive judgment.
I stood at the edge.
The sun rose.
The skimmer floated quietly.
Maybe today, it wasn’t disappointed.
Maybe today, it forgave me.
