Allyson paused in her splashing and ran up beside him. "What are you doin', Daddy?"
"I'm imagining that I'm sitting in front of the pool," he replied.
For the last few weeks, we've been trying to decide on a design and a builder for our new pool. Bill's been very scientific about it. Last weekend he chalked out his favorite design, using a pretty accurate scale, so that he could envision the finished pool and see the clearance on both ends. The main thing that I noticed was the three trees encompassed within the perimeter. It would seem Bill has it in for ALL my trees.
This week he was focusing on the deck, trying to determine whether there would really be room for lounge chairs between the pool and the iron fence that will separate the pool from the rest of the yard.
Allyson climbed onto the closest piece of wood, balanced for a moment, and jumped off.
"I'm imaginin' that I'm jumpin' in the pool," she explained. She splashed around in the imaginary water for a moment and then drug herself back out. Then she jumped back in, landing precariously close to a pile of doggy doo that Bill had missed on daily poop duty.
"Watch out for that-"
"Hey, why does the pool have dog poop in it?" Allyson demanded indignantly.
"Well, it's only a pretend pool," Bill laughed.
At that, Allyson went back over to her inflatable (poop-free) pool, and Bill resumed sunning himself in front of his imaginary pool.