Sun kids. Water women. Liquid ladies. Pool babies. My sister, my cousin, and I were these things during our childhood. We lived at the swimming pool on summer days.
My sister and cousin spent their time flirting with boys, jumping off the diving board, pretending to drown to draw the lifeguards into the pool. I, on the other hand, did not have to pretend. I wasn't the best swimmer in my younger years, so I was relegated to the shallow end of the pool where I practiced my backfloat and holding my breath. I mastered the backfloat by the time I was 6, but holding my breath underwater was difficult for me. Ten seconds felt like ten years. However, on one amazing summer afternoon, my sister and three of my cousins (all of whom were at least three years or more older than me) came to the pool. I was so excited to have my cousins there that I wanted to show them my underwater progress. Watch me, watch me. Are you watching? Here I go. 1, 2, 3,...20...30...I thrashed under the water for what seemed like an eternity before my cousins came leaping in after me. Through water-filled ears, I heard, Just stand up. Just stand up. There I was, at least four feet tall, drowning in a three foot pool, and I only needed to stand up.