The day has come. Emma Vance has been waiting for weeks for this moment. All her hard work has paid off, and she is ready to cash in her earned rewards. Today is her first swim lesson.
I’m trying not to hover too much because, well, I suppose it’s annoying to the instructor. Cricket is visibly upset that she’s too young for her own lessons, so I’m “teaching” her to float a few feet away from the lane where E.V. is currently showing the teacher how well she can dunk her head. I’m clearly eavesdropping, but I tell myself it’s okay because it’s her first lesson, and, well, because I’m not the only mom peering over the ropes at their kid. ;)
Toward the end of the class, the instructor helps the kids “swim” back and forth, encouraging them to move their arms. Everyone is doing well — but I can see E.V. jokingly scooping the water into her mouth and making “mmm” sounds. She’s grinning but I’m confused. E.V. is a bit of a clown, but this just seems…odd. Emma Vance does this a few times back and forth, and so I move closer.
“Scoop the ice cream! Scoop the ice cream!” her instructor tells her as she skims my child along the top of the water. I begin to grin.
“Excuse me! Excuse me!” I butt into the lesson. “She thinks you literally want her to pretend to scoop up ice cream…and eat it.”
“Oh…” the teacher has a moment of realization.
The next lap around, E.V. “swims” perfectly.
The lesson ends with a sticker and my child beams like she’s been given a blue ribbon. She has earned these lessons and done well in her first class, and she is a proud, ice-cream-scooping preschooler for the rest of the day.