Alternately titled "who needs a swimming pool anyhow?"
One afternoon in the last few days of the school holidays, The Husband built what he calls a Pirate Ship for the kids, which means he found some
bits of junk bound for the rubbish dump stuff and placed just so on my vegetable garden troughs (currently sans vegetables of course). The kids thought this was BRILLIANT, with planks to be walked, and holds and steering wheels, and their favourite part, the old bathtub he added as the Pirate Ship Dingy. To which they said "NO! its our pirate ship POOL!!" Ok, so this pirate ship is sounding more FairStar than Pirate, but whatever, kept em happy and amused and not whining in their mother's ear.
(and yes, you might be forgiven if you thought it looked like the rubbish dump already, but Husband would be terribly offended at the slur on all of his Good Stuff: pallets from the pallet pile, lumps of very heavy and ridiculously expensive channel iron saved for a job yet to be decided, empty MIG wire spools, etc.)