Lemons Into Lemonade. Problems Into Pizza.

Dear Laney,

We’re traveling this week, so I’ve been a little negligent with the blog. Rest assured, we have much to discuss and we’ll get all caught up.

Last Wednesday, I took you to swim class, which you love. I can tell that you love it, because you like to strut down the entire length of the Olympic-sized pool yelling, GOIN’ WIMMIN’! For this last session, the teacher wanted you to go under water, so I asked you several times if you were ready, and you always said YEAH!

Are you sure?

YEAH!

‘Cause we’re going all the way under…

YEAH!

I think – to paraphrase Cool Hand Luke - what we had there was a failure to communicate, because you came back up looking confused, hurt and betrayed. But still, you rebounded from it pretty quickly. The teacher asked if you wanted to try it again, and you said, NO. NO TANKS. ‘ON’T WANT TO.

The real problem came when it was time for class to be over, and we needed to leave the premises. As Peg Peg would say, “That’s when things turned ugly.” When you figured out in the locker room that we weren’t just on break, we were actually packing up to leave, it became a Festival of ‘On’t Want To.

On’t want to shoes!

On’t want to Ora Splora Pannies*!

On’t want to GO!!

It was one of those times when I had to drag you kicking and screaming, Norma Rae-style, into the car.

The cherry on this cranky sundae came when we pulled out of the pool’s parking lot and realized we had a flat tire on the car. We got the spare put on and drove to Costco to see if they could fix it, and to wait on your dad to come get us in case they couldn’t. Since we had some time to kill, we hit the snack bar where I bought you an eight-pound piece of pizza for a buck fifty. I know it was good pizza, because you kept reminding the patrons of the snack bar, “’AT’S GOOD IZZA!”

Here’s what we learned today: 1) Swimming=Good, Dunking=Bad. 2) Your forgiveness can be bought for $1.50. 3) Costco has a corporate policy that won’t allow them to patch the same tire three times. 4) Tires in Montana should be sold in vending machines.

Love,

Mom

* Translation: Mother Dear, I would prefer not to wear those Dora the Explorer underwear.