After the unusually hot March days we had last week, Hubby and I decided to get the pool and set it up Saturday afternoon. The teenagers helped clear the ground, lay the sand, and set up the frame. Then we filled it (yay for the upcoming high water bill...not). The whole thing was done by 11 pm.
Waking up Sunday, the kids were all about swimming. Only problem? It was your regular overcast March morning with 50 degree temperatures. Did this stop my crew?
Of course not, Silly.
They ate breakfast with gusto. They bickered over which float toys each were going to get. And they waited for the sun to break through the mid morning clouds. I kept warning them is was going to be too cold. But each time their response was more defensive and sure.
Ka-blam! An itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie ray of light burst through the cloudy day and shone on a 4 inch patch of the backyard. They were off like race horses, running out the backdoor, around to the back part of the yard. The teenagers ripped the cover off and all four jumped in.
All all four jumped right back out with a squeal.
I stood on the back porch laughing my you-know-what off. Super Wy and Parkour Boy (of course it would be our old souls) were smart enough to call it a swim day. Drama Queen and Holy Terror braved the ice water and jumped back in like the cute little fools they are.
They put up a front...though an unbelievable one.
"T-t-t-t-this is gr-gr-great, Mom. Y-y-you sh-sh-sh-should jump in!" Drama Queen chattered from the edge of the pool. Holy Terror piped in with agreement, his lips already turning a purpley blue.
"Not if you paid me a million dollars," I hollered back from the comfort of our backyard steps. I bundled my sweater tighter and went in to enjoy the warmth of the house.
Five minutes later I heard them jumping out. I peaked out the kitchen window and spotted my little Norris Polar Bears wrapping up in a comforter in the backyard.