Friday, August 03, 2007
Cute Boyfriend passed his Level One swimming test today. (Or maybe Brad just couldn't bear the thought of the young anarchist in his class next time.)
I did not learn to swim the way every other child in my family did. Big surprise there, huh? I was most definitely the odd duck in that family. I think I still am. Every summer, right after school got out at the end of June, we'd pack up for a couple of weeks of camping. No, not hiking into the wilderness camping, hooking the Coleman popup to the back of the station wagon and heading into the family section of Pinery Provincial Park on Lake Huron "camping". We took our chances with what was available, but only because the reservation system wasn't in place yet.
Walking across the dunes to the beach was our daily constitutional, and we spent all day in the sun and water. I'm sure it did, but I never remember it raining.
To teach us to swim, dad would stand out in shoulder deep water and the kids would climb onto his shoulders and dive in. I never did, not once. I knew how to get myself to where I wanted to be in the water, so why risk a belly flop or getting water up my nose? I loved the water, I had to be dragged out. Boyfriend's the same way. However, I can't imagine he'll be doing any shoulder diving anytime soon either.