The GFYO missed his last two swimming lessons because, despite his tough ninja style, he would not go past the locker room. Would not budge. Cried. Would not.take.one.more.step.
He finally confessed that he doesn't want to "race" so I said OMG you little nutcase gently, there's no racing little man -- it's just pretty much putting your face in the water and learning how to swim. The dude sinks like a smiling, blissful stone and yet in his infinite wisdom, figured I'd enrolled him in swim team and was expecting kick turns on the 200meter butterfly.
Today, he went. Today, in his swim cap squeezed to the top of his head like a yarmulke, he actually swam -- unattended by human or flotation device. Then he did a perfect kick turn and broke the individual medley record. Actually, he didn't do that, but as I kinda knew all along, that little bugger has been fooling me from the get go: he just likes it when I haul his life jacket everywhere we go. So now I think he can probably read too and also do laundry, but why bother since he has me to do his bidding.
I told Rory the good news and she high-fived him from across the seats in the car. And then the following commenced:
R: Now you can swim in the pool in South Carolina. But I will watch you anyway because you will probably get tired and drown. Then I will scoop you up and pat your back. You might drown again so mom might have to come but the thing is YOU WILL SURVIVE because you can swim now. I have drowned like eighty times. Maybe a hundred. The thing is: don't go in the deep end.
GFYO: OK.
R: And maybe wear your life jacket for, like, the first few days because I'll probably be busy and stuff and won't see you if you drown.
GFYO: OK.
R: But anyway, good job.And you know what? She's right. Because it's a good day if you can swim and don't drown, kind of like it's a good day if you have your driver's license and don't kill some innocent bystander. Everything's relative: swimming or drowning included.
And speaking of doing more swimming, go here and let ciii of Goat and Tater know you got his floaties.
19commentsBrilliant Person Wrote...
All I can think is how COLD it must be for the GFYO when he leaves the pool area with that wet hair. BUT at least he can drown properly in the pool in South Carolina.
Oh Lord...WHY do kids have to learn to swim. Can't I keep her scared of the water forever? Wouldn't that be safer? No?...Oh, alright. But I take her to swim lessons because you are making me. (well and because she looks cute doing a belly flop)
That's pretty much my goal in life - not drowning today.
Good on your guy. It's really gratifying when they get past the apprehension and just give it a go.
R is a big sister like I was a big brother. Poor, poor GFYO.
Rory (who will always be Rachel to me) cracks my ass! Totally sounds like something my Jadon would say - only he is the baby in the family, so I guess he would have to say it to one of the cats or the dog. The dog can outswim Jadon, so my bet is on the cats. Only they dont listen well, and probably would turn tail on him and find someone else to not listen to.
So I digress, Rachel I mean Rory cracks me!
Floaties eh? I may have to find some and send them over.
Oh, and that rock thing? Yep, at 6, that would be my boy too. Only there is not fooling me. He just plain old sinks. The stinker doesnt even weigh 40# and he is plunk, at the bottom before he hits the water!
My 6 year old could probably run the country, but he's too distracted by wrestling to get involved with summit meetings. Also? I need to still check his butt sometimes after particularly lengthy bathroom visits, so yeah, I totally think they're scamming us, but we fall for it.
Yep, I shoot for not drowning everyday. Life, reduced, to that.
Heather
Wow. That's some kinda big sister psych job she did on him. No wonder he thought he was racing; she probably told him he was on a swim team. BTW, no judgment of her at all. I'm actually feeling admiration. Wonder if I can go mess with my younger brother's mind some more...
I can TOTALLY relate. I was petrified of swimming pools as a kid. The swimming instructors literally had to drag me to the pool. I would hold onto their legs and they would drag me. No joke. Now let me show you the other side of the coin. The same instructors would push us kids off the high dive. Push. High dive.
Gives me the butterflies just thinking about it. I feel for GFYO. I know his instructors aren't doing that shit, but I still feel for him.
I hated swimming as a kid. My mom used to play this psycho "merry-go-round" game wehre at some point the merry-go-round would break and she would dunk me under, then promise not to do it again....mmmm, ohhh not until the next time! Don't blame the sweet and tender hooligan. hooligan....
*uh oh MereCat's breaking into Morrissey again*
When I was little, the swim teacher tied our knees together to teach us a certain kick and I couldn't figure it out and started to drown. My mom was in the stands screaming like a crazy lady because she saw me going under.
We never went back. But on the upside, I did still learn how to swim.
Go GFYO!!!
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Woo hoo! Go GFYO!!! And go, Rory, for being a truly awesome, (and normal), big sis. He's going to be a water baby next summer!!!
Dude... he can totally read! I feel it in my bones! How else can he spend hours on the internet perfectly navigating every page and only ask for help when he over hears me tell his sisters I know he can read?
oh and R is soo the big bro! hahaha
I love those kids.
I loved that you called him a nutcase. They are positively batty sometimes.
He can totally do laundry and cook by the way.
Also, we lost 3 sets of gloves this week...and that was only one child!
I like Rory an awful lot... everything you write about her reminds me of myself a million years ago. LOL
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