"Okay, big guy," I said, after taking in the view for a minute or two and listening to the soothing pulse of the waves. "Go put on your swim trunks. We're hitting the pool. It's too nice out to stay inside." Jack, as usual, looked as if I'd pinched him rather than suggested a fun day at the pool. "But ?" he cried. "You know I can't swim." "Which is exactly," I said, "why we're going. You're eight years old today. An eight-year-old who can't swim is nothing but a loser. You don't want to be a loser, do you?" Jack opined that he preferred being a loser to going outdoors, a fact with which I was only too well acquainted."