The boys had their (last, as it turns out) swim lessons this morning. We’re not a big ‘lessons’ family, but somehow Mike and Robbie are both doing gymnastics and swimming lessons every week.
New swim teacher today, and I see her trying to make Mike put his head under water. He was born scared of the water, and all I want is for him to learn to enjoy it. And that is what had been going on before today.
I called her over and told her not to make him do it. She gives the this BS about how unless he learns this he’ll never learn to swim. (Nice to say in front of him, right?)
She also says that this is a nice safe place for him to learn it. Mike is crying and clinging to her and telling her he really doesn’t want to do it. I asked her if it looked like HE thought it was a nice safe place. She agreed that he did not.
But then she keeps arguing with me. Turns out she is the new Director of the swim school and clearly was trying to prove something to me. About children’s swimming lessons. Ass.
Just as I was about to reach in and take the boys out of the water, and then reach down her throat and relieve her of her lungs, she said “Well, you are paying for the lessons” and “Well, they are your kids”. So I let her live and teach for the remaining 10 minutes. She should consider herself lucky.
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