The kids and I went to the pool because being neck deep in a somewhat cool pool is the only time being outside in this crazy heat is tolerable.

They were playing so well together, swim-chasing each other in a serious battle of Dunk-A-Sibling that only slightly looked like attempted drownings.  It was one of those rare moments at the pool when I could enjoy a “quiet” second without having to fix the goggles, kiss the scratch, referee the fight, fetch the flying pool toy or watch the latest and greatest trick they can do.

I was flipping through the pages of my Garden & Gun magazine, taking a few minutes to redecorate my (technically imaginary) house on the beach, when a sweet grandpa swam near the kids.  He watched them splash around for a bit and with a Santa Claus kind of chuckle, he innocently yelled for all to hear “What are you guys doing?  Motorboating?”  My daughter, who of course had no idea why her mother choked on her drink, said “Nope, I’m just chasing him.”

And there I sat, flipping through Garden & Gun, trying not to snort too loudly.






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