"Liesl, guess what I signed you up for!"
"...What?!?!?!??!"
"Swimming lessons!"
"SWIMMING LESSONS??? I'm going to take SWIMMING LESSONS?"
"Yes!"
(A brief pause, and then she bursts into tears)
"Honey, what's wrong?!?"
"...Why I'm not going to violin lessons anymore???" Sniff. Sniff. Sob.
After clarification that it is possible to take more than one kind of lesson at a time (indeed, many of my generation have extended this possibility to the maximum, a mistake I don't intend to duplicate), she was all ears. And then we showed up at the Costick Center for swimming, which, to add a bit more confusion to the duo-lesson quandary, is the same venue as most of her violin recitals. Liesl, excited and eager, suddenly comes to a dead stop in the hallway, looks at me, and admits sheepishly, "I forgot my violin."
But once the violin/pool skirmish was cleared, we hit the pool deck with gusto, and waited for our swimming teacher. And waited. And waited and waited and waited. "Can I get in now, Mommy?....How about now?....Mommy, can I go in the pool?...Mommy, where is my teacher?...Mommy, can I get in now?...." Mind you, this wasn't her teacher's fault--it was mine. A tip: Do NOT show up 10 minutes early for swimming lessons with a 3 year-old.
So now all confusions were dealt with, and Little Miss Fearless was finally able to get into the water. She delighted in the pool, loved her teacher, and enjoyed chatting up the other preschool students. The whole experience went--dare I say it?--swimmingly.
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