Down the Flume in a Rashie

Kobo had had an interesting morning.

Everyone was going to the Olympic Park. They were going to go swimming. Fish and Butterfly had brought their noodles. Fish had a blue one and Butterfly's was pink.

Their mummy took them into the change rooms and they came out in their swimsuits. Daddy was already in. The pool was not very deep but it had many splashy attractions. Water tipped onto people's heads from giant buckets. Curtains of water beat down relentlessly from a giant shower. Rapids swirled round special courses. A flume swept you down into a deep nose-unfriendly pool.

Fish and Butterfly were used to it. They floated on their noodles near mummy and daddy.

Kobo felt like a fish out of water except for one obvious fact.

She splashed about a bit. She rode down the rapids with Butterfly.

Excuse me, said a life guard, from the edge of the rapids. You are wearing the wrong sort of swimwear.

What? said Kobo.

I'll see you at the end, said the lifeguard.

Gosh! thought Kobo. What's wrong with my outfit?

The rules, said the life guard, at the end, state that you can only wear nylon or lycra.

Oh, fine, said Kobo, glad of an excuse to get out.

But mummy and daddy had seen what had happened.

Borrow my rashie, said mummy.

Oh, thank you, said Kobo.

She pulled on mummy's rashie.

Let's go down the flume! said mummy.

Okay, thought Kobo to herself. Take a deep breath and remember you are a fossilised clam, and a fossilised clam can do anything.