Just as I thought, with Grampa Jimmy on our side, we managed to talk Gramma Rosie into the pool idea. By the time we collected all of our stuff, packed a snack, got on our coats, hats and gloves and drove to the pool, Gramma and Grampa were exhausted. When a big gust of low 10 temperature winds blew Gramma's bag out of her arms, she said she and Grampa were nuts. I didn't know what she meant until I discovered that she left my underwear behind. Oh well, the important thing is that Drew was having a blast and I was swimming all over the place when suddenly a bad thing happened, and as Gramma Rosie would say, someone pulled the rug out from under us. The pool director announced that we had to bail out of the warm pool because a kid pooped in the pool and the kids mom said she thought the kid had diarreaha and we might all be contaminated or something like that. When the lifeguard announced that we were allowed to go to the big "cold" pool, Grampa got the jump on Gramma Rosie. He grabbed Drew and raced for the hot showers, leaving Gramma Rosie with a frown on her face as she followed me to the cold water. I had to show her how I could jump in and swim with my head down while she counted to ten so she would forget she was cold. Because I was having so much fun, Gramma Rosie smiled and acted braver than she felt. First she fretted over the idea of us all being contaminated and then she whined about getting frost bite. So far, we're all alive and well, safe and warm, healthy and happy, but then again, out incubation period isn't over and Gramma was imagining a night of that "dia" stuff.
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