A laugh

Tonight I offer you a laugh fully at my expense. Today was "swimming day" as Jackson reluctantly calls it. Right off the bat this morning he told me "no swimming day, school day," which once you have the full history on school (I will fill you in sometime), explains just how much he has dreaded this session of swimming lessons. 

So I am debating what will be the best approach to persuade my very, very strong willed son to actually get in the pool this week -- week three. "Just don't wear your swimmers," one mom suggested last week. "OK, I can see her point," I think and start to get dressed. "No, wait. Maybe if I wear my suit and get in he will take his turns with me. Yep, that's it. I'll wear my swimsuit and get in." 

And off we go, beginning the breakfast/dishes/diaper changes/jammies to swimsuits/carseats dash to the Clem Jones Swim Center for one half hour of swimming fun (sarcastic). We park, greet Jackson's buddy Owen with hugs and giggles, and drop Maeve off at the child minding. Then it is off to the "big, deep" pool for our lesson. The other little kids in the class are already at the pool's edge, and our teacher, Craig, is waiting in the water. 

So we hurry, and with an eye on Jackson, I begin taking off my cover up clothes, mentally preparing for the intense effort required to get Jackson in the water. As I throw my shorts in the bag, that's when I notice . . . I am standing there in my swimsuit top and my -- get ready for this -- underwear. Seriously. And it is on that note, that I begin the day. I think the rest goes without saying. 

Disclaimer:  OK, now that I have made a fool of myself, I am going to pass on some of the blame (I am pretty good at this). I blame Maeve. We call her "mommy's shadow" because she is always hanging onto my calves since she can now stand, but not yet walk. So this morning, she was right there, hanging on as I rushed to get dressed. 

But really, who I am I kidding. Only I can take responsibility for doing something that completely stupid.