Just about this time eight years ago, Tucker and I were living in the ghetto–or about as ghetto as Jonesboro, AR can get–and were enjoying the oblivion of working mindless jobs and chilling at the pool with various alcoholic drinks and friends.
Sophie was about four months old and would run around the pool and bark at us and it looked to me like she wanted to go for a swim.
I was wrong. So, so wrong. I traumatized poor Sophie with that impromptu swim and now the only water she’s interested in must either contain mud or fish poop, i.e., a river. She would prefer the water contain both.
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