A few weeks ago, I signed, Owen, up for swim lessons. As I filled out the registration form, I had to chuckle to myself.
The form required me to indicate what level, Owen, is currently at. There were several different categories to choose from. The skill level varied from beginner to advanced. Owen, falls somewhere in the middle, hence, the need for lessons.
As I debated as to which level best described, Owen, I couldn’t help, but to smile.
Had he been filling out the form, the answer would have been much different than mine. Certainly he would have placed himself in the advanced category. And even then I am not completely convinced he would have been satisfied.
Owen, believes he is the next, Michael Phelps. He can swim laps “real fast”.
This is based solely on his performance in the bath tub, however.
Instead, I filled out the form based on my perception. Owen, would have disagreed with me.
Tomorrow he gets to start his swim lessons, and he can show of his skills.
He has no fear of the water…
…or anything else for that matter.
This is yet another reason why, Owen, NEEDS to be in swim lessons.
So, tonight I felt the need to inform him of a few things.
“…Make sure you listen to your teacher. And your teacher may ask you a few things. Like, ‘What is your name?'”
“Spike. I’ll tell them, Spike.”
“But your name is Owen.”
“BUT I want to be called, Spike, not, Owen.”
OK. So I was wrong again. He doesn’t believe he is the next Michael Phelps.
No, instead he continues to insist that he needs a “big boy” name.
There is no winning with this child
…but at least he’ll know how to swim!
Only At My House,