Memories of Summer

The first day that the pool opened, we were giddy with anticipation.

The wooden picnic hamper was slowly stuffed with paper plates, napkins, utensils, snack foods, bread, peanut butter and jelly. The cooler stood ready for ice packed tightly between tupperware containers of hamburger patties, and hotdogs, potato and cucumber salad, jugs of iced tea and kool-aid.

We were chattering like the morning birds, admiring our new bathing suits with the newest pool patch sewn to the bottoms. We dove off the side of the sofa- belly flopping until Mom yelled for us to stop.

We waited impatiently for her to get ready; gathering towels, Coppertone and her library book. Finally we jumped into the loaded down station wagon, for once not fighting about the window seats. Who cares? We were headed to paradise.

We watched eagerly, wanting to be the first one to spot the American Flag flying high up in the sky. That was the sign to put on our flip flops and grab our bathing caps.

As we wound down the dirt lane under the tall pines, we observed how crowded the pool looked from our perch above. Oh good, it was still early and our favorite table and chaise lounge was open.

We waited as Mom opened the basket and spread the old green and white tablecloth across the wooden tables, claiming two near a grill.

Finally we skip and hop past the snack bar, breathing in the smells: french fries and suntan lotion, and as we separate from my brothers at the changing rooms the odor of chlorine tells me we are so close, beyond this dim room is blinding sunlight reflecting off turquoise water. Pop music blaring through speakers, kids screaming with laughter, and the only silence is under water.

Suffering through the liberal application of sunscreen, we each peel away from the line and jump in the cool water, teeth chattering as we emerge wiping our burning eyes.

The beginning of another long summer of fun.



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