You will have no sympathy, I am sure, when I tell you about yesterday's exhaustion. When the day ended, I staggered upstairs, took a shower to rid myself of the sticky film of sweat encasing my weary body, yanked the decorative pillows off the bed and flopped into it.

"Why, Ann, were you so weary?" you might ask. "What difficult circumstances did you endure?"

Sighing heavily to emphasize how real my plight was, I'd answer, "The pool. I sat by the pool all day long."

Poor me. After rushing through morning errands (beginning at 8:30), I raced home and made sack lunches, met my friend and her kids, and we spent the entire afternoon sitting in the brutal sunshine as our kids swam and spun and somersaulted underwater. Dear me, did I sit and sit and sit there, the UV protection wearing off over time, the layer of sweat oozing out of my pores. My only break was to walk home, shower, change into clothes, pack a dinner, and get back just in time for check-in and warmups for my kids' swim club meet. Then I was there until 8:30 p.m. All day long at the pool. All day.

I really was exhausted, but I'm sure you don't care to hear about it and will offer me no pity. I don't blame you, either.