You think?

I made it a personal goal last summer to teach Brae how to swim, he was after all, the son of a girl who spent practically all of high school on a competitive swim team and subsequent years working as a life guard and teaching swim lessons at a community pool.

So, early last summer I broke out the funnoodles, the kick boards and the goggles. I sat poolside and practiced the 'kick-kick-kick' and the 'reach with your arms- reach with your arms- reach with your arms'. It was going well, I could sense my son's enthusiasm growing with each inch we submerged into his chlorinated destiny.

However, all enthusiasm quickly died the moment we began to actually practice in the water.

It was, 'Cooooooold!'
and, 'Weeeeet!'
and, 'Mommy, it GOT IN MY EARS!'

Gee. Really? That's crazy, you mean water touched your ears?! Actual WATER?!

So my attempts at teaching the child to swim were de-railed and I resigned myself to another summer spent with a toddler dangling from my neck with claws of death as not to upset his ears.
I did however vow that NEXT summer. That would be the summer he would learn to swim.

I did not anticipate how quickly this summer would sneak up on me.



We spent last Saturday at the lake.

By this photo, you can pretty much gage the level of crazy excitement Brae was experiencing when I leaned over to whisper in his ear that it was time to get in the water and RED ALERT, RED ALERT THE WATER WILL TOUCH YOUR SKIN.



He did really well with the kicking and reaching.....from the shore. In the few times we attempted to practice in the water he distracted me long enough to fake a left around me and tackle me from the back, perching himself squarely on my shoulders.

But as I said, he did well and did not protest much at all. However, there was another form of protesting going on that had nothing to do with clogged eardrums.

You see, I bought these sandals from a yard sale. I know, right? BING! First clue.

Anyway, we happened upon a peddler in his driveway with his wares displayed for purchasing. As soon as I touched the sandals, the man's eyes lit up.

"How much for these?" I asked

"Oh, you can have them!" He exclaimed.

"Really? Brae come here let's see if they fit."

And what do you know, they DID!

"Well, they fit him, so how much can I give them for you?" I asked

"50 cents, although you could just have them" he replied.

Of course I could not just 'have them', I needed to pay for my driveway shoe purchase. So I handed over two quarters pleased with myself. He did need sandals for this summer and these particular sandals were cute with their Italian leather and European sizing.

I placed them on his feet minutes before leaving for the lake, admiring my steal.

Enter my 19 year old brother

"What are those?"

"Umm. What do they look like"

"They look like girlie sandals on my nephews feet"

"Noo, they are boy sandals. Or maybe they are even unisex."

"He's not wearing those"

"Yes he is"

And then minutes later my son walked into my room and announced that he no longer liked his "GLADD shoes and he would like to wear flip flops like a boy"

Yet still I resisted. I mean, 50 cents is 50 cents, right? Plus, I enjoyed them and what better time in his life than to dress him in ridiculous gender neutral items?

And although he had climbed into the car with his sandals on, arriving at our destination they were somehow transformed into a pair of black flip flops.

It appeared that someone had snuck a pair of flops into his back pocket awaiting the moment my head was turned to pull an old switcharoo.

Although I will admit that the shoes could probably swing both ways, I doubt that by wearing them my son's destiny would be sealed as such, as my brother would have you believe.

So, what do you think?

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B: