We've got a paddling pool (well, actually we've got two, the blogger lifestyle is obviously paying off, next it'll be a private plane) and with it being the summer, it's being used.
My son loves the paddling pool, it's roughly perhaps two foot deep (just over half a meter for metric folk) and its fascinating how the pool, which as I say my son loves, he's never happier than when he's jumping into the pool and splashing around, is actually the coldest object known to humanity.
My son will be happy playing by himself in the pool for a while, but then you'll hear the dreaded cry "Daddy, you can get in the pool!"
My wife is no help, this would be ideal time for her to ask me to clear out the garage or put my shoes away or one of the other many chores around the house that I should do. But instead she'll say to my son "Of course Daddy can get in the pool! Go on daddy!!"
I trudge upstairs to locate and release the swimming shorts, get changed, and go outside to face my fear.
It's even worse than I'd imagined. The inflated rectangular pool of icy death, full to the brim of water that I assumed has been freshly imported from either Siberia or Alaska, awaits me.
And in the middle of the pool is my son, splashing like a manic, sending icy daggers of water in all directions.
Gingerly I stand in the pool, my feet demanding to see their lawyers as they dink beneath the depths.
That isn't enough.
"Sit down daddy!!" my son implores.
So you drop to your knees, and eventually plonk yourself square into the pool, the water now lapping somewhere around your tummy, with your legs entering a competition for Frostbite of the Year.
The funny thing is, your body acclimatises, and after a few minutes, it's okay. But what happens is that only the bits of your body that stay underwater acclimatise, everything that isn't in the water stays totally unprepared, so every time I get splashed the remainder of my body that gets hit with water says "OH MY WORD WHAT IS IT WHY ON EARTH IS THERE FREEZING WATER ON ME?!?"
Nevertheless, eventually you do get used to it, and you actually start having fun, and you even wonder what all the fuss was about.
Until the next time, that is.
