

Saturday we went swimming at the Y like we usually do, but there was a new lifeguard, who wouldn't let the kids in the pool until after I was done swimming laps (the other lifeguard lets them in even if I'm not right next to them, since they're both wearing vests). I cut my lap-swimming short and went over with the kids so they could get in the water, but Aaron got scared by the lifeguard and started crying. I asked him what was wrong and he told me he had a bandage on his thumb and you're not allowed in the pool if you're wearing one. He felt stuck because he didn't want to take his bandage off - his cut was still pretty fresh - and he didn't want to try to sneak one past the lifeguard because he was afraid to get caught and yelled out. So he just cried on the edge of the pool until we left.
On our way home, Aaron, spooked by the whole experience, said he didn't want to take swim class, but I said swim class (which starts next week) is important because we'll be going to a hotel next summer that has a pool and I wasn't planning on packing our swim vests. This scared him - he said "but I'll sink to the bottom" - and no matter how much I insisted that he would know how to swim by then, he could not be consoled until Amy embraced him.
I remember being a sensitive little boy. My mom comforted me and my dad pushed me to become more brave. So are we trying with our little Goo Bear.
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