Come on in. The water's fine

My daughter decided that pool season has begun. I have decided she’s nuts.
It happened last weekend, when I was working in the backyard. Allie and Parker asked if they could come into the pool area with me and help. By “help,” they mean, “Constantly have Daddy say, ‘I am serious – do NOT do that or I will back a dump truck up and fill the pool in.’” Normally, the offenses at the pool are:
1. Running. I am still waiting to find out what age children develop a speed other than “sprint” and “asleep.”
2. Playing with the cleaning supplies. A 10-foot net in the hands of someone 4 feet tall is begging for someone to get smacked in the head.
3. Digging things out of the pool filter and throwing them at your sibling. Not surprisingly, these usually are thrown by a brother at a sister.
So they were “helping” when Allie asked if they could get in. I told them they could stand on the steps. The pool water was 62 degrees, so I figured this would not last long. Allie stepped on the first step, and then the second step. “Feels good!” she remarked. Her brother then followed her to the second step. I probably should have suggested he pull up his blue jeans. He didn’t seem to care.
I told them it was time to get out, and they both protested the point, saying the water felt just perfect. Bluff calling time – “OK,” I said. “If it feels so good, go get your swimsuits on.”
I figured that would nip it in the bud. I now figure I am a dolt for figuring that.
With shrieks of excitement, they began sprinting to the house, ready to go. “NO RUNNING!!!” I said to no one in particular, since they were already well inside.
(Oh, quick answer to your probable question -- of course my wife was not home. Do you think we’d have even made it to the steps if the voice of reason were there?)
In a few minutes, Allie came downstairs wearing her swimsuit. Parker came down wearing his birthday suit, since he could not find his swimsuit. Probably not the best choice. After a few minutes, I found a swimsuit for him, a hand-me-down from a friend that should fit him perfectly when he’s about 22.
We got out to the pool, and I bet the kids they wouldn’t stay in for more than 30 seconds. Allie said 30 seconds would be no problem. Parker said, “No! Forty hundred seconds!!!” Time isn’t his strong suit.
I told them I would count to three, and they both would jump in. When I got to three, Allie sprung off the side. Parker started to go, and then hesitated. “I don’t wanna go.” Forty hundred seconds, my eye.
Allie surfaced, and told me that the water felt GREATTTT! “Come on in!!!!” Yeah, right. She turned to Parker and told him that it was the best water EVER. For some reason, he believed her. He jumped in, went under water, and immediately broke the surface and began hurriedly swimming to the side. “IT’SCOLDIT’SCOLDIT’SCOLDIT’SCOLD.”
When he got out, his teeth were already chattering and he was shivering like crazy. I wrapped him in a towel and told him to head inside. “Allie, the water’s too cold. Come on out.”
She didn’t hear me, because she was busy doing somersaults and diving to the bottom and swimming around. I am fairly certain that she is part halibut.
I eventually got her attention, and we had this conversation:
ME: Allie, time to get out.
HER: Why?
ME: Because the water is freezing.
HER: It’s not 32. I checked the thermometer.
ME: Stupid science class.
Eventually, I convinced her that it was time to get out. She asked me for two more minutes, and I conceded, figuring surely the cold would catch up to her any second now. When two minutes were up, she reluctantly swam to the side and climbed out, throwing a towel on as if she had just climbed out of a hot tub.
Since that day, she has wanted to go swimming most every day. We have not yet been back in, mainly because the times when it would have been good for swimming have either been rainy or filled with roughly 5,000 events we were going to.
It’s good to know that her immunity to cold water will lengthen the season for the pool. I mean, most people are still a month or so away from swimming regularly. And that’s like, forty hundred days away.