On Saturday morning, I took Jack to his first real swimming lesson. And by real, I mean, he is really learning how to swim, not just being a happy baby splashing in the water while I sang "Wheels on the Bus."
We arrived at the pool ready to go, and the teacher informed me that I would not be getting in the pool with Jack. I had assumed that I would be, given that (1) he can't swim and (2) he is too short to stand up in the shallow end. Apparently, I was the only parent who made that assumption, which also meant that I was the only adult there wearing a swimming suit.
And to make matters worse, we grown-ups did not get to sit on the side of the pool to watch, but rather had to sit out in the lobby.
You ever feel self-consious in a swimming suit? Well, imagine that you are also the only one who is NOT fully dressed. And that you are not sitting next to a pool.
Since changing into my real clothes was not an option (we needed to be there to watch in case the kidlets should need us), I decided to just adopt the proper attitude. As in, "Yeah, catlickers. I'm wearing my swimming suit. And I look freaking hot, don't I? Go ahead, take a good look. Can you tell I'm a marathoner? By the way, nice shorts. I can see you're really getting your money's worth out of that elastic waistband."