A child's capacity to change constantly amazes me.

I had given up on the whole get comfortable in the water thing this year. The second to last swim class I couldn't even get David into his swimsuit and the last class was cancelled due to thunderstorm. (Lightening, what's a little lightening?)

We've walked down to the pool several times since then. I've offered him the chance to get in the pool and happily did a sociological analysis of who hung out on the dock when he refused. (The skimpiest bikini pre-teens form a circle near the base of the slide, the we-are-too-cool-for-you teenagers lounge on motorboats, the boys who are too tough to sunbathe fish.)

I figured today would be no different. I didn't even have his swimsuit with me, but just in case, I bought a Dora the Explorer swim diaper at the front desk. At first, we just snuggled under the umbrella while the big girls swam with Grandma. But eventually I said I wanted to get my feet wet in the little pool before we went to play and if he wanted to get his feet wet, he had to take his pants off and if he was taking his pants off he had to put his swim diaper on, and one thing lead to another. David had to sit on my lap the whole time, but we spent half an hour bouncing around the pool splashing and blowing bubbles. We both had a really good time.