I thought I had lots of essential things to complete Saturday. I had already caught up on some paperwork inside my internal medicine practice, took my son to baseball practice, and picked my daughter up from gymnastics. As usual, she then began to pursue social engagements for that weekend. After debating several options, my preteen daughter and I agreed that she along with a couple of her friends may go swimming at our neighborhood pool in Plano. I'd include them to supervise.

As a dutiful tween mom, I took a seat in the area I made a decision was least conspicuous; I could keep close track of the girls, without cramping their style. During our past visits to the swimming pool, it had been deserted. Often, i was the only real people there, and that we could enjoy having the swimming pool to ourselves. But today was different. There is a long family get yourself ready for a cookout, lots of children playing in the pool, a few senior high school boys tossing a football from one end to another, plus some twenty-somethings chatting poolside. It felt joyful and festive.

I sat quietly and checked for brand new messages on my cell phone as i paid attention to the chatter around me. There is some flirting (the twenty-somethings), just a little smack talk (the teenage boys), giggling (the kids and tweens), and a lot of joy in the air. Everybody was busy in their own world, enjoying the day.

\”Mom, she's been down there some time.\”

After about fifteen minutes, I heard one of the tweens say, \”She's been down there a while.\” She spoke louder than normal, but there wasn't any panic in her voice. I looked up and heard another girl say, \”She's not moving.\” When i rose to visit and check on things, I yelled to my daughter, \”What's happening? Is someone in danger?\”

My brisk walk converted into a run as my daughter, now strenuously, says in my experience, \”Mom she's been down there too long!\”