I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
July 17, 2009
>”So….” I said to Hubs as we got into the car last night for an evening on the town. “You know how I took Punky swimming at the Y this afternoon?”
“Yeah.”
“I sort of got into an… um… an altercation at the pool,” I said, looking primly down at my hands.
Hubs looked at me for a moment. “What?”
“Look, Hubs, it wasn’t my fault!” He continued silently looking at me. I took a deep breath and tried to explain.
When I got to the huge indoor pool yesterday, a lot was going on. A lifeguard was giving a group of about six kids a swimming lesson, several seniors were relaxing along the pool’s sides, and everywhere, parents were playing in the water with their children.
Punky just spent the last three weeks learning to swim in a Y class and was eager to practice, so I let her dog paddle her way through the water while I walked backward in front of her, all the while keeping an eye out behind me to make sure we weren’t about to run into anyone.
The lifeguard was letting one child at a time practice his butterfly stroke alongside the pool’s rope. As the children slowly made their way across the water and back, I was careful to stay completely clear of their path, as much for Punky’s sake as for theirs. She barely keeps her face above the water, and even the slightest waves tend to splash over her face and make her choke.
After a few minutes of paddling around, we made our way over to one side of the pool. That’s when I looked up and saw an angry face peering down at me. It was a grandmother, wearing the most pinched and sour expression you could imagine.
“There is a swimming lesson going on!” she spat, pointing at the kids all the way over on the other side of the pool.
“Yep,” I said, confused.
“You are getting in their way! This is their area of the pool! Stop swimming in it!“
I smiled. “Are you a lifeguard?” I asked.
She glowered at me. “No!”
I paused. This was the defining moment. Would I say something sarcastic back? Would I flee and avoid confrontation? What was the right thing to do? Generally, I would have just ignored her, but wait. I knew I was right, and I certainly didn’t want her badgering more people who were just trying to swim with their kids. As I mulled all of this over, she turned and began to walk to her seat.
“Ma’am?” I said. She walked back over to me. I flashed my most winning smile at her.
“My daughter takes swimming lessons here, too. Anyone can swim in the pool while they’re going on. We all just try to stay out of each other’s way. If you’re unclear about it, you need to ask a lifeguard instead of yelling at swimmers.”
“Get out of those kids’ way!” she bellowed.
“You seem to have some anger issues that have nothing to do with me,” I said, still smiling. I realize I could have left that last line out, but GAH, y’all. GAH. I also could have grabbed her ankle and pulled her in, right? So as you can see, I was practically a saint!
The woman muttered under her breath, stood up, walked over to the lifeguard, and began gesticulating wildly. He shook his head and said something back, shrugging. She returned to her seat and plopped down in a huff.
As Punky paddled through the water some more, I kept looking over at her. I sort of wanted her to look over at me again. I sort of wanted to… stick out my tongue at her.
But she wouldn’t make eye contact. And I’ll admit, it was probably for the best that I kept my nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah nyahhhhh! to myself.
“Seriously, though, Hubs, why do these people seem to just find me wherever I go?” I said. “I am not a confrontational person!”
Really. I’m not.
Seriously, guys.
I mean it.
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.