Conquerors of the Rock

Actually not just the Rock, but my Rock, to be absolutely exact. 
I must be getting soft in my old age. They were young, they were happy, they were enthusiastic, they were trying to psyche themselves up to jump in... I opted to show them my magnanimous side. 
They were informed that they could have the Rock for 10 minutes, not one second more. 
The young lad sitting on the Rock had both his hands in his pants to check that his gonads were still in place. That's usually the type of check one performs after one's immersion in the Irish Sea, not before. He'll have to work on his timing and chronology. 

They reminded me a bit of this, except in colourful, and joyful, and full of hope and banter. Actually, they didn't remind me at all of that war photograph. They were young. And happy. And about to shriek in a mixture of pain and delight when entering the water. And I allowed them to use my rock. 
For ten minutes.
Not one second more.