Swim lessons

This morning was Luke's first swim lesson.  Seamus, Auntie Lissa and I all went along for the "fun".  It was wild.  That poor teacher.  She never stopped smiling, but it was that kind of, pull-my-hair-out-check-me-into-a-facility-and-medicate-me kind of smile by the end of the forty-five minute lesson.  It really was, as they say, like herding cats.  Six 3-year-olds.  And my 3 year-old was perhaps the most disagreeable.  "I don't want to go on the boat.  I don't want to float.  I don't want to kick.  I don't want to jump into your arms.  I don't want to. I don't want to.  I don't want to."

One mother standing next to me said, very kindly I thought, "The smart ones don't have fun the first few lessons because they are fully aware of the danger, they understand they can drown and don't just jump in the deep end".

Maybe it is intelligence.  Maybe it's just a 3 year-old phase.  Maybe it's a little bit of fear of the unknown.  Maybe it's stubbornness.  But as my Mom reminded me on the phone this morning, this kid gets it from somewhere...but it can't be from my side.  We're never stubborn.  Never.  And as for being disagreeable -  Well, everyone knows that all Bergens and Howletts are just a bowl full of peaches all day long, every day of the year.   And don't even think of contradicting me.  I know cribbage and I'm not afraid to use it to settle this disagreement.