Post by Jessica R.
As soon as the sun comes out the girls start to ask when we’re going to blow up the pool. It’s not a big pool, nor is it a very exciting one, but they can’t wait for it to take up residence on our poor-beleaguered lawn. When I bring it out they dance around me as I huff and puff it into shape, laughing as I slowly turn beet red, helpfully poking it to tell me it’s not done yet. Then they take turns holding the hose as water spurts into the little pool, filling it painfully slowly, inch by inch.
By the time the pool is at long last ready to welcome some little swimmers, they’ve already stripped their clothes and gathered as many toys as can possibly fit in the tiny thing. Bathing suits snugly in place, hose turned off and put away, the girls are ready to dive in.
And usually that’s where everything comes to a screeching halt.
Half a toe in and the complaints start. “It’s too cold!” “My bathing suit is too tight!” “Ahhh! I’m WET!”
I’ve done this before, so I know the best tactic is to walk away. I throw a couple of the toys in and let them play.
The first day, they might not go in. The second day they might not go in either. But soon enough they’ll be spending more time in the water than out, and eventually the lure of the water trumps even the coldest of toes.