When the temperature at our airport hit 80° last week, that was it. My husband dragged out the pool from its big bin next to the shed and began the two-day process of setting it up, filling it with water, adjusting the chlorine level, and keeping the girls back with threats of flogging by an organic carrot until the pool was completely ready for swimmers.
Big sister leads the way.
That last picture looks bad, but let me assure you that she jumped in completely voluntarily. The scared expression shows how my kid works through her trepidation, which is basically "Watch me suck it up and leap!"
Besides, if my tiny Michael Phelps was traumatized by jumping into the swimming pool, would she then spend the rest of the day and all night with these on?