Today when I went to the DC Pool to swim, a little girl skipped past me up the sidewalk and shouted, “Hi!” Inside at the check-in desk, she explained to me that her mom would be signing her in later. Friendly little thing, I thought.
In the locker room, separated by a row of lockers, she shouted, “Do you have your swimsuit on under your clothes?” I assumed her mom had shown up. But then, ten seconds later, she yelled the exact same thing, only louder, and came walking around the lockers to look at me.
I faced her, topless, and said, “Apparently not.”
“I do,” she told me, and lifted her shirt to reveal a brown and pink polka dotted bikini.
“Well, then I guess you’re a better planner than I am,” I told her.
She disappeared around the lockers and I started wiggling into my Speedo. Spunky little thing, I thought.
“I’m done!” She yelled. And then appeared again to show me that she was, in fact, 100% pool-ready.
“Good job,” I told her. “You definitely beat me!”
“You know what else?” she asked. “I’m going to swim like a mermaid when I get in that water.”
And she turned and ran off, the skirt of her bikini bottom rippling behind her. I smiled to myself.
A few minutes later, I was in the water, shocked by the chill of it, facing 70 laps. As I neared the end of my workout, my muscles ached and I was chanting lap numbers with every exhalation of breath, wishing I could fast forward to lap 70 so I could call it a day.
Then I remembered that little girl who had been so excited to get in the water. And instead of continuing to count laps, I rolled onto my back, took a deep breath, flipped over and plunged to the bottom of the pool, kicking my legs behind me like a mermaid.
pithypants 
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