Summer in our house may have officially started last Friday, but I suppose it truly begins with the first pool visit of the year.
You see, in my teenage years I spent nearly every day of my summer break hanging out at the pool in Williamsburg Colony.
This pool right here.
I’m told they’ve since removed the diving board for insurance reasons, which is disappointing. Because it was there that I learned back flips, gainers and 1 1/2 front twists, base acrobatic skills that served me well as a bosun aboard the Clipper City. (I’d use the “splatline,” a long rope connected to the end of the yard, to swing off the railing of the boat, arc over the water, and land on the dock at a sprint so I could catch the docklines and ensure that a 200-ton tallship didn’t crash into the promenade.)
This boat right here.
But that’s another story.
Today’s story is about a little girl’s first trip to the pool.
This girl right here.
She had her very first swim with her mom on Tuesday.
Both of my beautiful girls.
And as you can see, she hated it every bit as much as splashing around in her baby pool last weekend. She also quickly learned that swimming is a pastime that is not only pleasant and exciting, but exhausting.
Those flamingos are killing me, man.