pool hair

I love summer, when we fill a bag with towels and a cooler with homemade popsicles, slather peachy-pink skin with sunscreen and pile into a hot car.  We drive to the pool, little sandaled feet kicking the back of my seat while we listen to classical music and the blast of the AC and Lucy's yelps and shouts.  We park in the shade (hooray!) and begin the process of unfolding bodies and floaties and the giant bag of towels and the cooler from our little car, then flip-flop through the gate, depositing our load on the nearest lounge chair.  We ease into the cool water, cringing a little at first, then relaxing into the relief of it all.  We paddle, we splash, we laugh, Lucy yelps, until I am pushing, rushing, out of the pool NOW so we can get home and have some dinner before we all fall apart.

And I love my girls' hair after they've been in the pool.

 (I also love it when their faces are covered with ketchup.)