The chicks love the pool. Because we have a huge, beastly dog in the backyard, we set up the girls' pool in the driveway. They don't care where the hell it is, as long as it's full of water and there are no flying ants in it. Because if a flying ant gets into the pool, it's ALL OVER. The pool has been contaminated with an ant of the flying variety, and therefore, the pool water is unswimmable. You know how it is.
Anyways, the girls are in the pool, and I'm sitting in the shade of the garage with my Diet Coke, sweating like a pig--that's what you do in Texas. It's so damn hot, you just sweat. So I'm drinking my Coke and sweating, and Jenna says, "I have to go potty." Of COURSE you do. You're in the pool, you're soaking wet, of COURSE you have to go potty. I tell her, "Okay, here's your towel. Dry off and go. DON'T RUN!" I turn around, and entertain Claire while Jenna's drying off.
A minute later, I realize that I didn't hear the door open. I look around--where's Jenna? She's in the front yard. Naked. Squatting. Peeing.
We're SUCH an entertaining family.