Tuesday is swimming day on my Grand Schedule. It has, so far, been too rainy/cold/miserable for the intended Green Hour Challenge (although I may well go back to this idea in the Spring), and, having enjoyed the pool so much over the Summer, the children are keen to keep up with their swimming.
Last week was still school holidays and the pool was busy. This week it peaceful and quiet. There was a school group but they were in their own lane and the four of us had an edge-side lane all to ourselves. We headed up the deep end and they had lots of fun diving for toys on the bottom. The bottom at the very deep end is 2 metres down and my daughter was having trouble getting there so we shuffled along a bit to the middle of the pool. My daredevil middle son was happy at the extreme end and continued to play. With only my family in the whole lane I had no trouble keeping my eyes on them all and I was, for me, feeling very relaxed. I was chatting and splashing with my little girl and watching my middle son. His face and arms broke the surface and then under he went. Again he appeared, splashed a bit and disappeared. By this stage I was paying very close attention. He wasn't swimming, or diving, just popping up, gasping, waving his arms and going under. He did it one more time and I took off up the pool, grabbed him around the stomach and hauled him onto the side.
"Are you ok?"
"Yes mummy, I'm fine," he told me, somewhat suprised, "I was just pretending to be a drowning person!"
I will leave you to imagine my answer!
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