It was July 16th, a Wednesday in one of the hottest summers I have ever lived through. Sitting on the guard stand with the blistering heat hitting my delicate skin, felt like an eternity of discomfort. I could feel the sun’s rays targeting my body as if I was a bug under a microscope. No cloud in sight, not even a speck of shade for my convenience. This was my job and I was bothered just by the thought of it. Every day would be the same routine. Wake up at seven in the morning, open my eyes and think to myself “Remember Stephanie its eight- fifty an hour, No other lifeguard in Houston makes eight-fifty an hour”, so this thought helped me throughout the day.
I worked at the YMCA; I was always astounded by the fact that the parents would put their child’s lives in my hands. I couldn’t even take care of a pet fish, and these parents trust me?
The thought of this always tickled me. Even though I disliked this job, I’ve never been able to acquire so much power; well what I believed was power. As soon as the children see you sitting up in the guard stand with your red suit, whistle and buoy the pool is your domain, everyone listens and does whatever the guard says.
The only thing close to me would be the lifeguard buoy, resting oh so lightly on my lap. This long, brightly colored red life saving device would always be by my side, and on a daily basis would irritably attract the heat, causing it to stick to my skin like a band-aid. And I can’t forget the handy dandy fanny pack. This fashionable purse device would be on my waist every single day. Carrying the... [continues]
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(2008, 11). The Guarded Child. StudyMode.com. Retrieved 11, 2008, from http://www.studymode.com/essays/Guarded-Child-180707.html
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"The Guarded Child." StudyMode.com. 11, 2008. Accessed 11, 2008. http://www.studymode.com/essays/Guarded-Child-180707.html.