This morning you were the most excited that I’ve ever seen you. So excited that you ran round the apartment shrieking and unfortunately scared the living daylights out of me just as I was first cut in to a new fringe. Mama’s not looking good, darling. You’re too young to understand why people will be staring at me in the street until it grows out. I’ll tell you that it’s because I’m so beautiful and at two years of age, you will simply nod and agree with me.
But back to the reason for your excitement. It was your first trip to the swimming baths with your papa. Or ‘schwimming’ baths as you call them in your delightful English/German hybrid way of speaking.
Trunks on, towel wrapped round you like a cloak, you stood ready at the door for half an hour before we actually left. For a few moments, I thought about the possibility of using ‘we’re off to the schwimming baths’ as a way to get you out of the door for not so inviting activities such as trips to the supermarket or doctor’s. But that would be too cruel. Wouldn’t it? We could pop in for a moment on our way to the shops and let you have a little look through the window, couldn’t we? Then it wouldn’t technically be a lie.
Back to the schwimming. So full of joy to be at the baths with your papa, you hadn’t actually considered that it meant getting wet. You spent the first five minutes stepping in to the water and then trying to dry yourself. A drop got on your forehead and you were really not happy about it. I’d say you squealed but if you’re reading this in years to come, we can agree that it was a rather manly cry. Or we can pretend it never happened if you like? I’d like to pretend my current fringe disaster never happened. Quid pro quo?
After realisation dawned that you couldn’t actually partake in any schwimming activities without getting a little wet, you relaxed a little and went in waist deep. I can’t say that you looked overjoyed but the
squealing manly crying stopped. You then discovered the little fountain and I think that this was the highlight of your first schwimm. Papa put his head underneath it; you put your right hand in. I think it you suspected that he might be tricking you in to a hair wash. You were not to be fooled.
Papa then took you in to the big pool for a bit and you enjoyed splashing about with him. You really wanted to take a closer look at the diving board but Papa held you back. He’s such a spoilsport, isn’t he? You also thought you might like to go in the lengths pool but I think we’ll save that for maybe your second or third visit.
So that was your first trip to the schwimming baths with your papa. I had thought it might be a nice weekly thing for you to do together but you’ve just informed me that you’d like to go to Kung Fu instead. While I think that this would be a wonderful activity for you, I’m not sure I could take the
squeals manly cries of disappointment when you realise that there are no pandas in your class. We’ll see.
Love you, my cheeky monkey.