In my old age I must admit I have become somewhat of a "Debbie Downer" or "Negative Nancy" - especially when it comes to swimming in the summer. Swimming in the winter is somewhat more bearable, in my opinion, because it involves heated indoor pools, warm (not scorching hot) walkways and does not require the use of sunscreen. Given the unusually cooler temperatures our area has been enjoying this spring I was certain the water would be nowhere near the temperature in which I prefer to fully submerge my body. That said, out loud. We journeyed to the local YMCA water-park and embarked on our annual Father's Day swim.
The water was COLD. I do not know how our children can splash right in and never blink an eye. After several minutes of slowly walking across the pool we were finally able to breathe again. Preacherman was certain hypothermia had began to set in. We spent some time in the pool (debating if we could leave yet) then moved on to a few rounds in the Lazy River and then back to the main pool.
Many of you may know that we are in the process of taking some foster parenting classes and hope to add another child (or two) to our family. This Father's day outing to the pool gave us an unusual glimpse of what that might look like.
I was no longer interested in being "in" the pool, so I sat on the edge and watched Rockstar on the lily pads and began tossing some Splash Bombs to Crazy Horse. Rockstar and Little Princess moved on to the feature area with Preacherman as Crazy Horse and I continued our game of catch. All of a sudden with no warning a male child, likely near Crazy Horse's age, jumped in the pool between us and entered our game. Now I was throwing the splash bombs to two children of similar size and age and watching them, with a smile on my face, as I saw for the first time what another child might add to our family. I was amazed that out of all the people at a pool on a Sunday afternoon that this child had decided to join us. They were fun to watch as they both called for the ball to be thrown to them and the "fight" to catch the ball that ensued with each toss. The smiles across their faces, the feigned frustration with each other and the pure enjoyment they were having warmed my heart.
Preacherman soon joined us, as did Little Princess who immediately wanted all the balls tossed to her. The young boy quickly added Preacherman to the game of toss. I kept looking around thinking his parents might show up and wonder who we were and why we were playing catch with their son. No one ever asked.
We don't know this young boy's story. We do know that we had fun and enjoyed sharing our game with him. Preacherman asked the boy if he was there with his family. No. He was there with his coach. I'm not sure what the boy's family life is like, but I am happy to know he has a coach who cares enough to spend Father's Day taking him to the pool.