Poker Chips

On Monday morning I discovered a handful of poker chips on the bottom of my swimming pool.

That is to say the communal swimming pool at my apartment complex, a two-building behemoth filled with youthful fit singles living their best lives. 

After most weekends, the pool deck is strewn with the debris of late-night hijinks. Still, the poker chips were new.

When I was a kid, my mother would attach a hose to our lawn sprinkler so we could frolic amidst streams of cool water. Soon enough we outgrew the sprinkler and moved on to the ever dicey Wham-O Slip 'n Slide, spending hours and hours careening off the end of the plastic strip onto the wet grass. We later launched ourselves into the neighborhood pond by way of an old rope swing. Our fascination with water held no bounds.

These days I glide across the water by way of a decent enough breaststroke, the only option that allows me to wear my sunglasses while swimming. As they say at the poker table, I'm "all-in."

"The water doesn't know how old you are." - Dana Torres (5X Olympic Swimmer)