So, a bit grudgingly, hubby gets the pool out, hoses it down, and we get ready for the first fill up. Except - oops! - no one has the first clue where we stashed the plug at the end of last summer. Thankfully, hubby is a bit of a McGuyver type, and one Ziplock bag and loads of duct tape later we were good to go.
I could only restrain Bug for so long - every 30 seconds a chorus of "is it time NOW?!" echoed through the house. I was hoping we could hold off until the water had a chance to warm a bit in the scorching sun, but that was really a bit of a pipe dream, right?
Now, the first round of the Summer Ritual begins. I lather Bug up with SPF70 sunscreen. Half a bottle later I decide we're good to go, since he's looking a bit albino at this point. Then on goes the white t-shirt, the swim trunks (that are a size a little too small, because I wasn't quite ready for it to be pool time yet!), the sun hat, the sunglasses. The hat and sunglasses are promptly pitched on the patio table as he bolts for the pool.
I managed to snag a few pictures - just before the first slide in, and then right as the shock of the burst of cold water set in. I stuck a toe in the pool and promptly pulled back. As I stood there watching my little water monster, splashing and bouncing around without the slightest concern of temperature of water, I was reminded of myself at that age. How I would have dove into the chilly waves with the same sort of abandon, and basked in the too-hot-for-mom sun.
Oh, to be four again!
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