“There’s a tarantula in our pool” factually ejaculates the Small One.
“Where?” prudently questions First Born, really hoping (despite what reason tells her) for an unlikely find as that.
“-or Something” concedes the former, under contorted brow.
I, however, knowing the truth of such phenomenon, dally not, endeavoring to skim all unwanted beetles, duck feathers, fir needles and-
pool tarantulas from our swimming enjoyment.