Our girls are in swimming lessons this summer, and are enjoying it to varying degrees. The oldest has discovered her gills, the middle one is getting there, and the youngest is convinced that land animals were meant to stay there.
About all the instructor can do with her without causing a melt down is dip her ear in the water. He’ll do this several times at each of her turns, but she’s begun dictating terms, letting him know exactly how many times he may dip her royal ear below the surface.
While he held her from behind, she held up three fingers, the back of her hand toward him. First she held down her thumb and pinkie. Then she decided to down-graded his privileges from three to one, leaving only her middle finger on display for him and any other swimmers or instructors in the vicinity.
The poor guy promptly, but gently, pushed her hand down into the water to hide it. Then he side glanced at me with a half smile. When he saw mine in return, he busted into a grin.
“Don’t take it personally!” I called to him.
I’m not sure those guys get paid enough.