Full Hands

This video has nothing to do with the rest of this post. But it is funny, in a way, if you watch it to the end.

I joined the pool at the nearby Holiday Inn. It's a way to encourage the boys to learn to swim without taking actual swim lessons which are A) costly B) a mere 40 minutes a week and C) crowded with lots of other kids who also need the teacher's attention. I can swim. The kids love the water. Eventually they will learn, as long as I can motivate to get there at least once a week.

We went this afternoon. Getting in the pool is an ordeal, but getting out is a tragedy. No matter how I try to fix it, I'm always naked in the locker room with one kid stomping his dry clothes into a puddle on the floor, one crying because he wasn't dry before putting his underpants on and now they are rolled up and stuck halfway up his thighs, and one kid who is fully dressed and telling me he'll "wait out by the pool!" There is usually crying and yelling involved.

Today, after wrapping it all up and exiting the locker room into the sauna of the pool room, we were all silent and tired, and the boys held my hands and did well, except for the one time Nate slipped and accidentally almost pushed Nick into the pool.

I passed the only other adult at the pool. She looked at me and smiled. "You have your hands full!" she said.

I smiled and nodded and said "Yes, I do!" Because that's more polite than saying "Don't you think I KNOW THAT?"

And as we rounded the corner Nick very loudly asked "Mom, why do ladies always tell you you have full hands?"

Hmmm. Why DO they, now that you mention it?