It is officially, I think, I will not check, Summertime. It’s hot out, and you are blissfully unaware of any sort of water crisis in your state. Your children are complaining, and you either do not want to go to your public pool out of a thinly-disguised disdain for the members of your community or you’re not allowed there anymore because of a fight you got in with one of the other Dads over the protocols of the placement of towels over pool chairs to reserve said chair. You didn’t spring for a backyard pool because you were afraid some stranger would wander into your backyard while drunk, fall in, drown and raise your insurance rates.
Your children still complain.
You’re left with no choice. You must consider the Shark Park.
