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Growing up in New England, you quickly learn to become BFFs with any kid in the neighborhood who has a pool – even if he was the weird guy who drew on his arm or the girl who collected horse figurines. Since two months use isn’t enough to justify spending 30 grand digging a giant hole in the backyard, above ground pools are the standard. Those horrible 25 foot blue eyesores that were useless 10 months of the year became priceless for the sweaty, sticky months of July and August. I have hundreds of happy memories of splashing my way through rounds of Marco Polo where no one was ever actually out of arms reach or running in circles to make a giant whirlpool.

If you were unfortunate enough to get uninvited – or if you have the kind of selfish neighbors who never bother to invite you at all – you had to settle for your own sad kiddie pool, inflatable or plastic. Today, in the great tradition of New England summers, we introduced Baby Evan to the joy of sun-warmed hose water on as 85 degree day. And to make it really classy, we let him go naked.

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