« Blame It On The Farmers | Main | June's Promotional Goodness! »

June 7, 2005

So I never learned to swim until I was 23 . . .

From Alesia, drenched with chlorine

It didn’t seem urgent, and my parents were not the ‘sign the kids up for lessons’ type of parents. (For anything, actually, so I can’t play tennis, ride a horse, dance the ballet, or anything else of any discernible talent, but that’s another story, like me taking flute lessons when I was 28 years old. Pitiful (my flute playing, not my childhood). Just pitiful.

But, when the pilot said strap in for emergency landing, except we were somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, not a scrap of land in sight, and way, WAY far from La Guadeloupe, our scheduled destination, all that ran through my mind was: We’re going to crash land at sea, and I can’t swim.

Now. I know. You’re saying: She’s an idiot – she’d be dead way before she’d have to swim. But my mind didn’t let me think that way. So, after the emergency landing (we did make it San Juan) and then finally arriving in La Guadeloupe a dozen or so hours late, the first thing I told my then-boyfriend was: You have to teach me how to swim.

He tried, but without fins and a snorkel (which I ADORE), I pretty much am a drown-quality swimmer.

So, naturally, I thought it might be a good idea for my kids to learn to swim while they’re still young. Today we went to the pool and had a fabulous time, and I signed them up for beginner lessons. Maybe I’ll be able to pick up a few tips, but I TOTALLY look dorky in those water wings.

hugs,
Alesia, smelling of chlorine

Posted by Alesia at 4:10 PM