I’m in Dallas Texas on a trip with my family. My brother and I are chilling in the pool, floating around while our parents talk.

There’s an underwater bench that runs all along the border of this like olympic swimming pool. As a 6 year old I think it’s a good idea to take my floaties off and scoot along the bench.

It’s going great and I feel super sneaky for getting away with swimming without my floaties when my little foot slips off the bench and I drop straight down into the pool.

When I think about it now the water must have only been 5 or 6 feet. It closed over my 2nd grade head and I couldn’t swim hard enough. I sunk down and pushed off the bottom, jumping for my life.

I must have made some gurgling yelling noises (I think I was going for ‘Help!’) because my Dad rockets out of the shallow end, runs over to me and dives. His rescue happens all in one fluid motion, he scoops me up in his big safe arms and sits me down on the edge of the pool.

‘Are you ok? Are you ok?’
‘Uh huh’

After that my Dad wraps me in a big white hotel towel and we go back to our room and watch cartoons. He talks to me about exploring and swimming — my mum was also really upset. When I apologize for scaring her she cries.

And that’s how I almost drowned in Texas.