As the World Swims

Swim team today was drama central. I felt like I was the director of a terrible, terrible TV soap.

Many things happened: I snagged a girl from the water, lifted her up, and explained to her the reason she should be swimming instead of floating like a jelly fish. The brother and sister combo kept kicking each other under water, when confronted, the 7-year-old boy said, "It was an accident!" Another little 8-year-old decided she didn't know how to count and would swim 2 laps instead of the required 8. When I told her she only swam two she said, "But I counted!" Sometimes I wonder...

But one situation topped them all. One young 7-year-old made my day and possibly my career of teaching swimming lessons.

The boy's name is Teddy—a chubby, selfish, and conniving little 7-year-old, who will do anything to get out of swimming. Today, his tummy hurt. He was going to throw-up.

Sometimes I handle these plots & schemes better than other days; often, he knows, I will let him set outside of the pool. But today I decided to handle it differently.

I frantically yelled, "Oh my goodness Teddy!!! Get out of the pool if you are going to throw-up!!! Hurry! Hurry! Go stand over the trash can!"

So Teddy waddled over to the trashcan and stood with his head over it, looking like a frenchman ready for the guillotine to chop off his head. I continued watching the swimming lane and instructing swimmers on their strokes, often glancing over at Teddy. I noticed that every time I would look at Teddy, he would "pretend" throw-up in the trashcan and then "wipe" his mouth in disgust from the taste. I couldn't believe it; I had found a new game to play. I continued to watch the swimmers and periodically shift my eyes to Teddy so that he would see me looking and begin his throw-up routine once again. It became a game to me, my glance was all that was needed to see chubby little teddy hurl his face into the trashcan and pull the infamous "wipe the mouth clean".

After this game had lost its fun, I went over to Teddy to find out his explanation for the lack of throw-up in the garbage. I asked him where it was and he pointed to a small loogy on the side of the plastic bag. I chuckled and went back to my lane.

Later, Teddy came up to me with a very important question:

Teddy: "John? Can I go to the bathroom?"
Frustrated me: "Why?"

Teddy: "Because I have to... (He looks down at his crotch)"
Me: "You have to what?"

Teddy in a whiny voice: "I have to... (grabs his crotch and looks down again)"
Me, knowing exactly what he needs to do: "Teddy, I don't know what you are talking about. Just tell me."

Teddy: "I have to... I don't know how to spell it.... P.E.E.?"
Me: "Oh, you have to P.E.E., why did you spell it out?"

Teddy: "Because I don't people to know what I am going to do in there."

What Teddy doesn't realize is that jumping up and down, while grabbing and staring at one's crotch is the universal pee sign. Even Cooper could have told him that (he still does it).