My family is fortunate enough to have a swimming pool out in the back yard. I neither blow it up nor cover it in the winter, but it works for my hooligans, ahem, angels. Of course, I do have a garage full of the previous years’ swimming pools, seeings how we started in a blow-up pool the size of a large dog dish and just kept buying pools to fit the size and number of kiddos.
All I can say is that nothing beats the pure awesomeness of the lingering scent of Banana Boat sun screen on tired kiddos who just spent a couple of hours splashing about in the pool. I give it a two thumbs up, or in this case, a thumb and a toe!
Remember back when you were a kid and whenever somebody asked you how old you were, you automatically added enough to your age to make you older? “And how old are you little missy? “Six and a half!” “Wow, when was your birthday?” “October.” “So, you looking forward to Christmas?” “Yep, I can’t wait! Only 5 weeks to go!”
Yeah, I was pretty bad at math, even back then. But seriously, there is this wacky magical dateline in a body’s lifeline that should have big ole neon lights and those traffic cones set up all around it. You know, that day that you just happily sailed right past not even realizing that you had somehow passed from “wanting to be older” to “wanting to be younger”. I know there were no warning signs in my life. Just one day I stopped automatically wanting to make myself older.