The Newest Testament

This past week I finally got my act together and signed-up the entire family for swim lessons.  I was talking to a colleague at work and she asked me, “Why do you all need to go?”  I had a fun time explaining to her that there was no way I would be taking two little kids to a pool and wriggling them both in and out of wet bathing suits and slicked up with sunscreen like little buttered piglets.  By myself.  Plus the class for Nate is a parent/tot class.

Jacob’s “puppies” have already taught him how to hold his breath and “swim” in the bathtub.  We are clearly overdue for these lessons.

So I was telling Jakey that we’ll be going on Saturdays and he began peppering me excitedly with questions.  Will it be cold?  Will they have a diving board?  Will I watch him?  Then he started telling me about all of the twirls and somersaults he is already able to do underwater.  There were a lot of hand gestures and floor reenactments.  Then he tells me, “And Mom, Mom.  I tiptoe across the water.”

“Are you telling me you walk on water?”

“No, no.  I tiptoe.  TIPtoe.”