Jumping into the icy cold water of the lake was a severe shock to my system. My dad had taken my two siblings and I to our cabin for the weekend, hoping to give my mom time to do her favorite thing in the world: clean our house. We were on our deck boat, riding the surprisingly harsh waves that had erupted from the water thanks to an upcoming thunderstorm. Every time the boat hit a wave, I was thrown from my seat and sent couple of inches into the air before crashing back down and practically breaking my coccyx.

Suddenly, my dad stopped the boat. He stood up and walked to the front of the boat, glancing out into the water and sighing.

“Alright guys. If you want to swim, this is the best spot.” We had spent the car ride up to the cabin convincing him to let us swim, and though he knew how cold it was, he had finally relented. I guess three kids nagging for three hours can really wear a man down. At the time, I was ecstatic. But once I was in the boat with my little swimsuit on, curled up in a ball so that my entire body was covered by my jacket, I had second thoughts.

I looked up at my dad to tell him that I wasn’t going to jump, and that’s when I saw it: the look. My dad had this look on his face like he just knew I was going to chicken out. His eyes had a gleam in them that I knew from experience meant that I would be ridiculed for my lack of bravery until I moved out of the house. I couldn’t stand it, the idea that my father was right.

So, I jumped.

I expected the water to be cool, it was only spring after all, but the icy, bone-numbing coldness was not planned for.

I felt paralyzed. I probably would have drowned if I didn’t have on the scratchy, constricting life jacket that was insulating my chest and keeping my heart beating. Moving my legs and arms even half an inch felt like trying to drag fifty-pound weights behind me. The water seeped through my skin, wrapping itself around all of my muscles and constricting like a snake. I could see the light of the not-so-warm sun, but it was blurred and given a greenish tint due to the lake’s murky water. I held my breath, fearing that if I took in any water, my lungs would turn to ice, causing me an extremely painful death. Our boat’s metal ladder was an icicle, and I couldn’t get a grip on it. I was reaching for the actual side of the boat when my dad’s hand grabbed mine and pulled me up onto the rough wooden deck of the boat. I grabbed the soft, warm towel and wrapped it around my shivering body before throwing my life jacket off and my clothes on. I was gasping for breath, and repeating “It’s so cold” like a mantra.

“I told you the water would be cold,” said my dad, wiping his now wet hands on his orange polo and smirking that obnoxious smirk of his that he only wears when he knows he’s won “but you didn’t want to listen. Now do you believe me?”

I tried to reply, but the only thing I seem capable of saying is “It is so cold!”

Even when every last drop of water slid off my skin, I shivered. When the boat stated moving again, the wind picked up and the shivering increased. Of course, my dad thought that me losing all feeling in my body was funny, so he drove our little motor boat as fast as it would go, causing the wind of the upcoming thunderstorm to move faster than usual, drying out my eyes and freezing my body. I felt like I would never be warm again. I complained the entire way back to the cabin. My dad left the air conditioning in the car on freezing just to tick me off. By the time we finally made it to the ramshackle little blue elf house that we called the cabin, I was glaring at my dad and shivering like a chihuahua.

But, some hot chocolate, a younger sister (who was smart enough to wear a jacket and stay in the boat, therefore retaining a normal body temperature), and five blankets later, I couldn’t remember what it felt like to be cold. Sadly, I could remember what it felt like to once again be beat by my father: bitter defeat and a frozen swimsuit.