When I swim, i swim like a child. I like to do twists and turns and flail my body like an awkward and unabashed sea-goon. If I'm in the deep end, I tread water but most of the time, since i have a squirt to swim with, we stay in the shallower end and I attempt to adhere to some unwritten rule that i must keep as much of my body under the water's surface as long as I can. No standing up with water to my knees, no no. That's wading, and there's no wading at the pool.
First I see where both Julian and I can touch. It is here that I do my best twists and tricks. Same as on my knees. I have a pretty wide range of motion. Then as I move up to shallower water, I must switch to the crouch. My knees are bent as tightly as can be and I shuffle on my toes under the water until, in shallower-still water, I switch to my backside gently bumping along the pool floor and I glide my body around like a soon-to-be beached whale that's trying to pretend everything's cool. But then I am, I am a beached whale, beautiful and proud, and I sit with arms and legs stretched out and let the tides and currents swish me this way and that in the hot summer sun and it is aaaaalright. It is very alright.