Remember how we got a jump on summer? The saga continues.
In case you weren’t aware, it’s been raining here. For forever. I’m talking the kind of rain where you have to pick the Bible up and remind yourself that God promised to never again destroy the earth via flood.
Any peeks of sunshine we’ve gotten lately have not only been few and far between, but celebrated wildly.
So on one of our rare days where we thought we might see the giant ball of gas burning billions of miles away, Husband decided that C’s swimming pool needed to make its summer debut.
Nevermind that the temperature wasn’t supposed to break 70. And nevermind that somebody warned that it would be a tad frigid, even after the “sun” had time to warm the water.
No, these boys needed to swim. And “swim” they did. 
Oz preferred to laze in the sun and watch the action.
The joyous swim excursion lasted all of about six minutes.
And it’s a good thing it was short lived. C’s little appendages were beginning to turn blue.
For now the pool has been retired. Unless, of course, we need to pull it out to use as a life boat.
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