"I think Michela might be starting to develop something," she said worriedly. "She looks pale."
"What?" He stooped by the edge of the pool. "Vita mia, are you feeling okay?"
"Si, Papi. Perché?" (Yes, Daddy. Why?).
"Come here; let me look at you." Oliver inspected his daughter but couldn't see anything out of order. "Sei sicura di stare bene?" (Are you sure you're feeling well?).
"Si, si! Per favore, lasciami stare ancora un po' in piscina, Papà," (Yes, yes! Please let me stay in the pool a bit more, daddy).
He examined her for the second time and nodded. "She's okay; she doesn't look pale. I won't be long."
"Oliver, I need to go to the bathroom."
He whirled around, frowning in disbelief. "Like now?"
"Yes, and it's urgent. Too many coolers. I can't hold it in any longer."
He sighed
