Search Engine Spam

Carter and Archie had their first indoor swim lesson last night- an effort to maintain the swim skills gained over the summer.

Archie was less than thrilled with the prospect of getting in the water without me. I was less than thrilled with the prospect of chasing him around a deep diving pool while Carter takes lessons though, so I was committed to selling him on his teacher and the experience in general.

As I gesticulated and smiled persuasively while urging him back to his very sweet teacher, I noticed a couple of parents . . . . not just looking at us, but quite openly laughing at us. “Well,” I thought, “they just don’t remember trying to convince a three-year-old to like swim class.” I went on, listing the merits of winter swim time, including that for the first time, Archie can swim without a swim diaper, now having “toilet learned,” and got to wear a cool pair of jungle swim trunks instead of the more cumbersome full body sunscreen suits of summertime.

Then Archie backed away to escape my grasp and I looked down to see his penis draped over the elastic of his swim trunks, free of anything so constraining as a swim diaper or full-body sunscreen suit. The other parents’ laughter suddenly made sense.