So, yesterday’s swim lesson didn’t go so well. Given that this is our fourth attempt at it I was prepared and ready for battle. Once a week I treat my son to a few munchkins at Dunkin Donuts. He knows this and it always asking if it’s munchkin day. When I tell him it IS, his face lights up like it’s Christmas morning and Santa has dropped a motherload of presents in our living room. I don’t know what they put in those things, but whatever. He’s hooked. DD’s probably has a customer for life . Though really they don’t have to try that hard. Since we live in MA it’s probably a foregone conclusion that he’s theirs and always will be, because all of us here have this inexplicable ingrained loyalty to Dunkies. It flows through our veins like blood. I don’t even like their coffee that much but I find myself ordering one at least two times a week. I get one on munchkin day, because it seems weird to walk in and only buy three munchkins. And at least one other afternoon a week I hear the call of an ice coffee… ah, the perfect afternoon pick me up.
Before class he asked if it was munchkin day. I was noncommital but sort of implied that maybe it would be if someone would at least give swimming a try and maybe even make it through the entire class. If someone were to do that then maybe, just maybe it would be munchkin day. That’s not a bribe right? I haven’t resorted to bribing my kid to get him to do what I want have I? Bribe with sugary food? Who me? Never. I know that’s on the list of things that good mothers should never do.
So he said ok, put his bathing suit on, smiled even, and walked over to the side of the pool. He got in and well, that’s it. He refused to do anything else except hang on the side of the pool. So this is what I don’t get. He doesn’t mind being in the water. He isn’t afraid (I don’t think). He likes to kick and splash around on his own terms. But he doesn’t want anything to do with a formal lesson. He doesn’t want the instructor to touch him. When it was his turn to go out and practice kicking and paddling he screamed bloody murder.
Chris, the teacher, is very patient. He successfully taught my daughter to swim (though with her there was never any drama) and since we’ve been members of this same gym for years he’s known my son since birth. He tried everything in the book to try to get him to participate but nothing worked. Finally toward the end of class he said “you don’t want to dive, you don’t want to jump in, you don’t want to float, you don’t want to dunk, you don’t want to kick, you don’t want to blow bubbles. What do you want to do?” And, of course Gavin said “what I WANT is to go to Dunkin Donuts!”