Sink or Swim (Swim, I Hope)

Today was the first day of our survival swim course. Hilary, Declan, Ronan, Aaron, and Gretchen are all taking the 5-day course, offered by the Baby Otter Swim School. Since it was the first day, they explained to us, it would just be orientation--letting the kids get to know the instructors, get used to the water, and even learn to put their face in the water. No big deal.

What a bunch of liars.

I guess it's simply a matter of interpretation. "Learn to put their face in the water" actually means "I will hold your young child's head under water while I force him/her to kick maniacally to reach the side of the pool... and then repeat this four times... and then repeat the whole of it four times." In between such torture, the children clung to their instructors in a haze of crying and, in the case of Gretchen, sleeping.

Later, after I cleaned off all of Ronan's breakfast that he had vomited on me, I asked Declan how swim class was.

"Good," he said. "I cried."

"I know," I answered. "Maybe tomorrow you won't cry at swim class."

"I don't want to go to swim class tomorrow!" (Insert heartbreaking lip quiver.)

Later, under pressure at dinner, he was forced to acknowledge that going to swim class tomorrow was "okay," after Hilary announced that she thought it "great" that we were forcing them back into the arms of their captors swim instructors.

I can't wait 'til Saturday.