And for a few brief moments, they forgot all about their mandatory summer reading list.

The little dudes had friends over for the afternoon this week and it was too hot to go swimming. Not too hot to swim, to hot to GO swimming. Apparently, the heat radiating off the two tree-lined blocks between our house and the pool was just too much to endure.

So they plopped themselves down in front of MTV. Which I totally don't allow, because if MTV wasn't invented when I had long boring summers, then there's no way I'll let my children enjoy it. I also make them walk uphill to school. Both ways. In patent leather maryjanes.

So they asked to Slip-n-Slide. Which Big Dude promptly shut down. It smashes the grass, doncha know. (Big Dude hails from a long line of Nebraska fluffygrass farmers. We have very fluffygrass.)

So they did the obvious thing that any child would immediately think of. They coated the trampoline in dishsoap and put the sprinkler under it. Instant waterpark, baby.

However, they learned that the sprinkler dissipates the dishsoap too quickly. Not their words. I put those words in there so that it would seem like I somehow turned their fun into a science lesson. Which I totally did not.  I wouldn't dare impart knowledge to them over the summer.

They solved their dilemma after much hypothesizing and experimentation. Okay, sorry. That's not true either. What happened was one flopping sopping giant middle schooler slipped (and slid!) through the house and retrieved the Mr. Bubble, while another disconnected the sprinkler, attached the sprayer, and bungee-corded the hose to the side of the trampoline.

It's like they're engineers. Water engineers. Forget it. I give up. They're just normal kids. Sigh.

Normal kids who dive like freakin' Superman!

 Nicely taking turns. Because we raised 'em right. Although this particular child isn't mine. So really, HIS parents raised him right.

Sideways turns. Technically more difficult, but you'll get a higher score from the Czech judge.

It's important to make sweet surfing faces whilst doing this.    Somewhere, someone is humming the theme to Hawaii 5-O right now. Oh, it's me. Whenever I hear the Theme to Hawaii 5-O, I always immediately think of Kojak. Because I wasn't allowed to watch either show. I was like 4 at the time. I then immediately think of Mannix, which I claimed to be my favorite show from age 3 to 9, even though every episode I'd ever watched was through the crack of my bedroom door. It came on at 9 o'clock, and that was bedtime in those parts.

Thumbs up for Mommy! (That's probably not what he was thinking at all. In reality he was thinking, "Mom, please do not put this on Facebook and tag me. I'm not wearing a shirt and all the little middle school girls will see it.") Don't worry, dude. It's not on Facebook. Not on Facebook at all.

Raised by children o' the 80s, my offspring are adept at the Robot and many other superfly dances.

Even in mid-air. I bet Bell Biv DeVoe is in his head right now. No, wait, that's me again.

Dude's got hops.

15 Style Points.

Ka-rah-tay.

They're completely itchy and I'm out of all liquid soap products, but there were no lawsuits, so I called it a good day. Hooray for summer.