In the middle of the night--after sneaking in with one member of the "pool posse" and the lifeguards (well, I guess, it's not sneaky if you're with the Head Lifeguard and he has a key) and polishing off half a bottle of cheap, delicious wine in a coffee mug adorned with
Henry the Hand (a hand-shaped character who promotes the principles of proper hand-washing through song and whose humiliating mascot costume I was forced to wear as a kid)--I climbed up onto one of the lifeguard chairs and jumped off into the deep end of the pool where, growing up, I spent every day of summer.
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