“Honey,” I say, “Mommy and Daddy have already paid for your swimming lessons, and you’re going to learn how to swim. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” he says, with his eyes looking towards the floor and with a posture that tells me he’s only doing it because he knows that the next thing I’m going to say will be something he REALLY will not want to hear, such as, “If you don’t get in the water this very instant and start swimming, when we get home, you’re going to your room until I say you can come out!”
MLI has swimming classes every Saturday morning at 9 a.m. at our health club. To work our schedules around his swimming and CareerMom’s desire to go to an aerobics class at 8:30, I went earlier, then after my workout, I took him out to the pool for his 30-minute swim session.
Last week, due to the holiday, he didn’t have his regular teacher. Instead, he had some young stud-wannabe kid, who was nice and who did a fine job. I figured we’d have the same guy today so we walked over to him and he said, “Oh, Anna actually will be his regular teacher. She’s over there.”
He pointed…I stared.
A more appropriate description for her might be, “Future Baywatch Star” if Baywatch were still on television.
Anyway, after daddy composed himself, we walked over to Anna and introduced ourselves and after a bit more blubbering, I finally threatened convinced MLI to get in the water where he had 30 glorious minutes with Anna…while I tried (hard) not to look like I was trying not to look.
And don’t think little boys are dumb either. MLI clung to her (and not in a “I’m scared” kinda way) like he clings to a slice of pepperoni pizza. And for the record, he did NOT cling to the boy teacher in the same fashion.
So, next week, when CareerMom asks if I can again accompany MLI to swim lessons, I’ll cheerfully accept. And I think I’ll have to make Saturday, Chest and Biceps day…cuz…those body parts really need the work.
(Hey, I’m married, not dead!)