When I was four years old, Mom made me get swimming lessons at the public pool. I have vague memories of that pool. I remember the bottom of the pool hadn't been refinsihed since WWII and hurt my feet. I also remember being wretchedly terrified of the diving boards.
Fortunately for me, Mom was readily available with her camera to document this horrible childhood memory.
Below, my sister (in purple) tries to talk me into it.
The instuctor inches me toward the edge, regardless of my protests and the death grip I place around her legs
The instructor attempts to calm me since I am now crying hysterically at this point
The instructor hurls me and my tears off the board. I learn a very important lesson mid-air: Have Mom check out these people before signing the check.
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