After the stress of proper swimming lessons the 5 year old has embarked on an intensive weekly session with Gramps after school. Her first session was celebrated with some chips and a Fruit Shoot in the cafe.
Note to Gramps : Fruit Shoots are like amphetamine to the 5 year old who bounces off the walls and talks utter gibberish for an hour after consumption.
He often recalls how he taught me to swim and made me swim across the width of the local pool without armbands, apparently I got to within a metre of the edge before sinking. Clearly not wanting to repeat the near drowning he has done some research this time round and Fruit Shoots aside the 5 year old is loving it.
Three weeks in and she always comes home with a new tale … “Did you know that Gramps used to wear tights”. Yes I did, and this statement probably needs backing up by the fact he was under 10 and living in Scotland in the 1950’s.
I’m wondering whether I should also tell her that he also used to wear woolen swimming trunks on the beach as a toddler. The saggy and very soggy crotch used to trail behind him in the sand.
Next up was “Gramps told me that when you were little you pulled a cup of coffee over yourself and had to be taken to hospital” … she seems to find this tale morbidly fascinating. I have no recollection of the incident but know that I pulled piping hot coffee over myself after eating porridge and watching Open University (probably where my obsession with beards stems from) with my Dad at approximately 6am in the morning
I love that they are spending quality time together and that she is adding to her fond memories of her Gramps.
However, one memory it may be best for her to forget is this one …
I received an email from Gramps a couple of days after their latest lesson about lots of general stuff to do with Christmas presents and the like, at the end was this …
“I forgot to mention my Victor Meldrew moment in the communal changing rooms at the swimming baths. When I was trying to find my mobile phone which I thought I had lost (but in fact I’d left at home) I went back to the family changing cubicle that the 5 year old and I had used. I knocked on the door which swung open to reveal three pretty fit young ladies dressed in bikinis (possibly more a Benny Hill moment). I was rescued by the 5 year old. In the midst of my spluttering explanation she appeared and asked me if I had found my phone. I possibly avoided being banned from the baths.”